


that's murder, buddy

by egeria



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marijuana, Not too gory tho, Podcast, Pro-Bending, because zuko runs a murder mystery podcast, some mentions of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egeria/pseuds/egeria
Summary: Throughout the streets, on quiet nights, it was rumored the screams of those missing could be heard. Some say the sounds were coming from underground.Where were the young girls? And what was happening to them? Was an evil spirit haunting Gaoling, or something more human? More sinister?My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’.--Or: Sokka has no idea that his crush is the host of his favorite podcast. (But everyone else knows.)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 120
Kudos: 637





	1. mistress of gaoling

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to [Wheat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnt_oranges/pseuds/burnt_oranges) for beta'ing this!

_In the late 1800s, the once small city of Gaoling found itself terrorized by a mysterious figure. At first, young peasant girls were missing, the staff for the local palace finding their daughters gone. Eventually, not even the noble families were safe. Throughout the streets, on quiet nights, it was rumored the screams of those missing could be heard. Some say the sounds were coming from underground._

_Where were the young girls? And what was happening to them? Was an evil spirit haunting Gaoling, or something more human? More sinister?_

_My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. Thank you all for tuning in! I’m super excited about this episode. I was truly shocked when I first heard about this story. Big kudos to my buddy from Gaoling who let me know about this. Before we get into this really, really crazy story, let me give a quick shout out to my sponsor for this week: Kyoshi Koffee. I haven’t always been a huge coffee person--_

\-----------------------

Sokka looks back over the notes, briefly eyeing Teo as he makes an adjustment on their project for their Small Craft Design class. Every day, Sokka wonders why he decided to major in Naval Architecture + Engineering, but he was too far in to do anything about that now; even still, despite the difficulty and hair-pulling, he loves what he does. 

He’s listening to the latest episode of his favorite true-crime podcast. The soothing voice of the host, who’s going in-depth on the gruesome tortures committed by the Madame of Gaoling (as is her nickname) somehow calms him. Or, at the very least, stop him from ripping the notes into shreds and throwing them into the crystal blue waters below. 

Well, he says that. He watches with a frown as their boat starts to sink again.

“Shit,” Teo says, watching it go down. His face is absolutely blank at this point. 

Sokka sighs, taking his earpods out before he reaches down to grab the boat before it can completely submerge into the waters of Ember Bay. Who would’ve thought that designing a small, one person boat was actually difficult?

“Think it’s weight?” Sokka asks, heaving the small craft onto the dock. 

Teo shrugs. “Probably? Do we really need the mini cannon?”

Sokka shoots his friend a glare. “Of course we do! It’s a warship!”

“Aren’t there other weapons that don’t weigh as much? Like, I don’t know. Lasers?”

“Lasers,” Sokka says, his voice deadpan. “Right, let me just go get some lasers to add to our boat.”

“I’m sure Haru has some,” Teo retorts, leaning back in his chair.

Sokka hums, not wanting to agree or disagree (their eccentric electrical engineering friend probably did, in fact, have some weird laser they could use), and looks sadly at the boat. “Well, we still have a few weeks to perfect this. Should we go back to the lab?”

Teo groans, glaring at the boat. “Spirits, I do not want to spend any more time in the lab this week. I am _so freaking tired_ of blueprints. Can we meet up tomorrow? Or the day after? Any day that’s not today?”

Sokka laughs a bit, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. I’m tired of it, too. Help me carry it back, though?”

They heft the boat onto the trolley and start the short hike back to the boathouse that belongs to the Naval School at the University of Ember Island. Even though it’s the middle of autumn, the air is still humid, and they both build up a sweat by the time they make it to the building. Sokka gives a happy sigh as the gust of air conditioning blesses his skin when they open the door.

Teo gives a huff as they go to store the boat. “I have no idea why you moved to the Fire Nation. You can’t handle any temperature over fifty-five.”

“Well, maybe the weather shouldn’t have the audacity to be warmer than fifty-five. Have you thought about that?” Sokka says back, giving Teo a good-natured nudge.

He does bring up a good point, though. Some days he really does wonder what brought him to leave the Southern Water Tribe to attend university here. Sure, okay, Sokka knew exactly what he wanted to major in, and it was either here or the University of Agna Qel’a, and he knew his arch-nemesis from childhood, Hahn, would be attending that university, and he was fresh off of his breakup with Yue, and he just really wanted to avoid that entire situation.

So, here he is. Sweating in early November. This should be a sin.

Teo snorts, wiping the last beads of sweat from his forehead. “Sure, just bring that up with Agni. Ask him to chill out.”

“Exactly!” Sokka says. “I’m sure the sun spirit will be very reasonable about my request.”

They both share a small laugh, and Sokka stretches a bit, muscles sore from the minimal labor he did today. 

“Think we deserve some boba for our accomplishments today?” Teo asks.

Sokka arches an eyebrow. “Did we actually accomplish anything?”

“Well,” Teo begins, cocking his head to the side. “It didn’t blow up this time.”

Okay, fair. The first cannon they used was apparently more sensitive to water than Sokka had thought.

“If you put it that way,” Sokka says. “Did you have a place in mind? I’ve only been to _Pabu’s Place_ , and let me tell you, that boba did not, in any way, slap.” 

Teo looks at Sokka like he’s grown another head. “You’ve never been to _The Jasmine Dragon_?” he asks, his voice high-pitched in shock.

Sokka’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Um, I mean. Once? I think? I got a chai. It was pretty good.”

“A _chai_?” Teo demands, voice somehow going even higher. “Sokka, my friend. My man. My guy. How have you gone to this school for three years now and not had the boba there? Literally. How? It’s like a rite of passage.”

“It can’t be that good,” Sokka says back, feeling a bit defensive. Okay, so his freshman year, he’d been a bit too homesick to explore the island. Sue him, alright. “You’re overhyping it.”

“Nope,” Teo says, confident. “I absolutely am not. When I say this is the best spirit-damned boba not only on this island, but in the entire Fire Nation, I am saying that as a fact. As the truth. There is no lie leaving my mouth.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Sokka says, holding his hands up. “It’s bomb-ass boba. I guess we have to go there?”

“Right now. Like literally right this moment,” Teo agrees, already turning his chair to head towards the exit.

Luckily, the teashop is located on the strip of shops facing the bay, and they arrive shortly. Of course, that doesn’t stop Sokka from perspiring like a damn pig, but the shop is blissfully air-conditioned and he once again ascends to the heavens.

The shop is crowded, with the crowd consuming a mix of boba, different iced teas, and some seeming to have pots of hot tea on their table while they study. With the mismatched armchairs, low tables, lamps, and lofi beats emitting from the speakers, it’s the quintessential college town locale. Sokka becomes a little upset that he hasn’t found this study spot sooner. 

Luckily, despite the crowd, the line to order isn’t too long. Honestly, it’s just the right length for Sokka to analyze the menu. He always likes to try various flavors of boba, though to be frank, he hasn’t had any in months. Not since this summer, anyways, when he’d been doing his internship on Kyoshi Island.

(Now, if someone wants some good boba, they should definitely go to Kyoshi. Though, apparently, they were known for coffee? He’d learned that from the most recent podcast episode.)

He’s just settled on ordering the lavender boba when they finally get to the front. Teo orders first, already knowing his order by heart. Sokka, still in his own world, isn’t really paying attention, mind wandering back and forth between the dungeons of Gaoling, where the poor girls’ met their gruesome fate, and the project that’s going to put him in his early grave, when a voice finally breaks through the fog.

“...uh, sir?” he hears someone say. Sokka looks up, startled, and then realizes that the boy at the register has been trying to get his attention.

“Oh,” Sokka says lamely, finally fully processing what’s going on. He blinks a few times, eyes zeroing in on the man in front of him, when his brain comes back to a screeching halt.

Because holy shit, the guy working the register is _hot_. 

His hair is up in a messy bun, a loose gold ribbon holding it up. He’s wearing the apron for the shop, but underneath isa maroon shirt, a v-neck from what Sokka can spot. And on his arms, he could see the outline of a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeves.

Sokka’s eyes wander back up to his face, where he meets the confused, golden eyes, with a deep burn scar covering the left half of his face. His lips (his plump, beautiful lips) are pulled into a small frown.

A frown? Why is a man this handsome frown-

Oh, right.

Sokka clears his throat. “Um, yeah. Um, hi?”

Guy’s expression becomes more concerned, and he searches Sokka’s face, as if checking to see if there’s some reason for him to be acting this weird. Honestly, Sokka can only hope that he doesn’t realize that he is just absolutely flustered by the hot guy in front of him.

Every day, Sokka curses the spirits for making him an absolute bisexual disaster.

“Hi?” the guy asks back. “Do you… do you want to order anything? Or… uh?”

Something about his voice sounds familiar. The raspiness sounds like a voice he’s heard a million times before.

Sokka wonders if he had some core classes with the guy.

“Um, yes? A large lavender boba, please?” Sokka says, straightening up and trying to seem at least somewhat capable of having a social interaction.

“Right, yes. We can do that,” the guy says, promptly blushing as the words leave his mouth. “Though, I’m sure you know that. Because it’s on the menu.”

“Uh huh,” Sokka says, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “With the tapioca balls?”

“Yeah, of course. Tapioca balls,” he says, pressing some buttons on the tablet in front of him. “Yeah, boba. Tapioca balls. A classic.” The blush only deepens. Sokka’s crush is only rising. Alright, he can never study here. He’d never get anything done. “Can I have a name please?” he asks.

“Sokka,” he answers. And before he can stop himself, the next words leave his mouth. “And yours?”

The guy looks up from the tablet, eyes wide. “Me?”

It’s too late now to turn back, and Sokka gives a slow nod of his head. Next to him, he can see Teo holding his head in his hands. “Yep.”

“Oh,” his mouth forms into a surprised circle, and he blinks those pretty golden eyes a few times. “I’m Zuko.”

_Zuko_.

The name sounds familiar as well, and without giving too much thought to it, Sokka chalks it up to it being a common Fire Nation name.

Honestly, even though he goes to school here, most of his friends seem to somehow be from the Earth Kingdom. He blames the International Club for this.

“Zuko,” Sokka says, savoring the name. He loves the way it feels leaving his mouth, and the way his voice sounds when he says it. “Well, um, it’s nice to meet you, Zuko.”

He turns to leave, mind already imagining Zuko and him on a date, sailing on the open sea, going sledding in the South Pole, when he hears his name being called.

Sokka turns around, turning towards Zuko, a smile already forming on his face. This is it. This is the ultimate romance scene. Zuko is going to, somehow, maybe, ask for his number? Let him know when his shift ends and ask Sokka to wait? Jump over the counter and kiss Sokka?

But instead, Zuko just shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Um, you have to pay. It’s $5.50.”

_Ah_.

Teo bursts out laughing, and it’s Sokka’s turn to blush. 

“Fuck off,” he mutters to Teo as he pulls his card out of his wallet. To Zuko, he gives a rueful smile. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Zuko gives a small _hmm_ , taking his card and swiping it, before slowly handing it back. “Well, thanks? It should be up in just a minute.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sokka says.

“You already said that,” Zuko says back, before wincing. “I mean that in a non-asshole way.”

Sokka pauses before a moment, before allowing himself a small chuckle. “Alright, I won’t take offense then.”

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, when the girl behind Sokka gives a groan. “If y’all are done, I’d really like to actually order my drink.”

Now it's time for both of their cheeks to redden, and Tea makes yet another obnoxious noise. “Right. Sorry about that. Well, see you around?” Sokka says.

Zuko gives a quick nod, before clearing his throat and turning to the girl in front of him, a customer service smile gracing his face.

And that was that.

(If you’re wondering, yes the boba was really good. No, Sokka would not admit that to Teo’s face. And yes, Sokka got roasted in the group chat.)

\-----------------------

_Unfortunately, as most things seem to be, no one really even cared that girls were going missing from the Gaoling streets until it was the daughters of nobles that were the victims. One story in particular that stood out was the daughter of a visiting Water Tribe dignitary. According to the story, she was given a tour of the palace by a maid, and then never turned back up for dinner. The family panicked, and there was a search. But, of course, nothing turned up._

_The theory I have is that the Mistress of Gaoling had the servants in the palace working for her out of fear. Like, I just have a really hard time believing that they were as malevolent as the Mistress. There’s not that many bad people. Trust me. My family kind of blows, and even we’re not all the absolute worst._

_Anyways, it was actually the disappearance of the Water Tribe girl that got some authorities a bit suspicious. When a visiting noble family from Omashu visited, and the daughter, as you might guess, went missing, an investigation finally took place. And what they found was… honestly a bit disgusting. So what they did--because they couldn’t just raid the palace of this very powerful family--was they sent in someone who was close to the Mistress to get some intel. I guess he was paid off or something. Nobles are usually pretty money motivated._

_Anyways, so he comes to stay the night at the palace, and at night, he sneaks around a bit. He gets to the lower levels, and he hears screaming. The screaming of a young girl. He’s absolutely terrified, but he knows he has to figure out what’s happening. You could apply an altruistic view and say he wanted to deliver justice, but honestly, he’d probably get a bigger payout if he actually found some evidence._

_So, he goes deeper and deeper into the palace, and he realizes he’s just in this long hallway, and there’s this door that was kind of hidden. And it seems like the screaming is coming from behind that door. So, he takes a deep breath, kind of steeling himself for what’s about to happen, and then--then he pushes open the door, as silently as possible. And what he sees makes him immediately vomit._

_Which, after you hear what he saw, can you really even blame him?_

\-----------------------

That night, Sokka sits on the fire escape of his shitty studio apartment, a joint in his right hand as he leans against the brick wall, slowly taking puffs. Even though he’s a few blocks from the beach, he can still feel the ocean breeze on nights like this, and he always tries to take advantage of it. It’s times like this where, even despite the heat, he truly feels like he’s back in Harbor City, sitting on the docks with his family, watching the fishermen come in with the day’s catch.

He knows he should be grateful for the opportunity to study abroad like this. And what he’s studying will be beneficial for his people in the end. He wants the Southern Water Tribe to have the ultimate naval fleet; he wants them to be the envy of the world. He has big dreams, and it all depends on his ability to master the art of naval architecture.

Sokka’s fascination with boats probably started when he was fourteen and went ice dodging for the first time, with his dad and Bato. He remembers his mom standing on the shore, and watching her get smaller and smaller as he went further into the water. And the absolute thrill he felt as he soared on top of the icy blue sea. The next thing he knew, he was reading every single book available about the different types of Water Tribe boats, and once he finished those books, he’d moved on to the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation vessels. The entire idea of creating and innovating different crafts that could absolutely fly on top of the water, without the need for a water bender to assist, made him absolutely ecstatic.

Sometimes, he wonders if this desire came from his self-consciousness at not being a water bender like his sister. Katara was one of the best benders of their generation, and had even competed for a bit in her youth, before deciding to go into medicine. From the looks of it, even as a freshman, she was probably going to be one of the most sought after medical doctors in the world. Given her strong bending ability, every medical school in the world was already attempting to recruit her. 

And Sokka, a non-bender, of course wants to be her equal, even if it can’t be in bending. And, because of where he’s from and how he’s grown up, he feels a connection to the water, and wants to create something that flows with the currents.

So here he is. Creating boats. And a submarine one time.

Maybe it’s crazy. 

He takes another puff. The saltwater breeze always brings more introspection than he’s comfortable with. Or maybe it’s the weed. Or the combo.

Whatever.

Puff.

The metal of the fire escape jitters, and Sokka sits up, looking for the cause, only to relax when he sees Toph’s smirking face in front of him.

“You scared me,” he says, holding out the joint to her extended hand. She gleefully wraps her fingers around the paper, taking a puff, before holding it back out.

“Maybe you’re just easily scared,” she says back, getting comfortable. “Heard you were an absolute disaster at the teashop earlier.”

Sokka groans, slamming his head against the wall behind him. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope,” Toph says, with an emphasis on the ‘p’, before holding her hand back out. Sokka grumbles, taking his own hit before passing it over. “Zuko’s a sweet guy, though. You should get to know him more.”

Sokka cocks his head. “You know him?”

“Yeah,” she says, before passing it back over. “I’ve known him since we were kids. He used to come by Gaoling pretty frequently.”

Sokka nods a bit, his brain a bit slow on the uptake given the THC flowing through his veins. Eventually, the word _Gaoling_ resonates. “Oh shit. Gaoling.”

Toph sighs. “Yes, Gaoling. The place I’m from. The large city. What about it?”

“You know that podcast I like? He just did an episode on the Mistress of Gaoling. That woman who, like, murdered all those girls.”

Toph pauses for a moment, slowly taking a second puff (it’s definitely not her turn to take a hit), before holding it back out to Sokka. “ _That’s Murder, Buddy_ , right? That’s the podcast?”

“Yeah, I know I’ve told you about it.”

“Hmm,” she says. She has another smirk growing on her face. Sokka doesn’t like when she smirks. “What’s the name of the host, again?”

“Oh, uh,” Sokka wracks his brain for a moment. He’s never been good with names, especially if he doesn’t have a pretty face to place it with. “Um… oh! Zuko. Ha! What a coincidence. Zuko must be a pretty popular name here, right?”

Toph’s smirk just widens. “Yeah, it must be.” They sit in an amicable silence for a few moments, just passing the joint back and forth until it finally reaches its destined end.

“I did come here for a reason other than just stealing your weed,” she says suddenly, reaching up to pop her shoulders. Sokka is high enough to be briefly impressed by her muscles. “I have a tournament in a couple of days. Y’all should all come. This one should be pretty exciting.”

Sokka is immediately excited. Toph, like Katara, is one of the best, if not the best, bender of her age. The girl freaking created _metal bending_ at the mere age of twelve. But instead of staying in the professional competitive scene, or even going to the olympics, Toph, a famous hater of any sort of structure or strict set of rules, solely competes in underground fighting rings. They aren’t strictly _illegal_ , but they’re definitely discouraged and most assuredly scandalous given her noble status. 

Not that Toph cares about her status in any way. But still, Sokka has heard the angry calls from her parents. 

Though, to be honest, Sokka has to admit that the underground fighting rings were ten times more exciting than any sort of professional bending competition he was forced to sit through. 

“Fuck yeah,” he says. “You know I’ll be there.”

She smiles widely, before standing up. “Great. I’m definitely going to kick everyone’s ass this time.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Sokka says. “Wanna go back to your place through my window?” Toph lives two floors up, and though she can see via earth bending (something with her feet, Sokka truly cannot understand), she’s also probably a bit too high to be climbing up a rickety, one hundred year old, rusty ladder.

She considers this, before giving a shrug. “Yeah, probably should. See you, Snoozles.”

She disappears as quickly as she came, and Sokka enjoys a few more minutes of silence, the breeze still slowly stroking his face. He closes his eyes, and takes deep breaths in, imagining sailing in the open seas, the azure waves standing no chance against his boat. The ice of home getting closer and closer.

He takes one more deep breath in, before following Toph’s steps and climbing back into his living room, lowering the window to just a crack. He should probably close it-- it’s not like Emerald Island has a low crime rate. But Sokka wants to sleep coolly tonight, and he’ll risk the robber if he can have some sort of airflow through his apartment.

(He really needs to ask his landlord to fix his ceiling fan.)

As he washes his face, he suddenly curses, popping up from his bent over position over the sink. He forgot to ask Toph the question about Gaoling!

Before he goes to sleep, he makes sure to send her a quick text.

**_To Toph_ **

_So, do you live in the same palace as the Mistress of Gaoling?_

**_From Toph_ **

_Shut the fuck up and go to sleep_

_Yes._

\-----------------------

_The torture chamber was excessive, and could only really be achieved because of how absolutely, ridiculously rich the Mistress was. Yes, she was killing the daughters of people who paid for her to live that type of luxurious lifestyle._

_Talk about the need to eat the rich._

_Because of how the justice system works, and especially how it worked back then, only the servants were sentenced to death. They were executed about a month after the torture chamber was discovered. As for the Mistress of Gaoling, she was sentenced to life in prison, which actually amounted to her just having to stay inside of her very fancy palace for the rest of her life. It’s kind of bullshit._

_The palace still stands, though a new family owns it. I’ve actually been inside the palace without even knowing this story, but I do sadly have to report that the torture chamber has been gutted, cleansed, and now acts as a wine cellar._

_Anyways, that’s this week’s episode. Sorry for the gore, but like I said, it’s an absolutely bonkers story. I have no idea why it isn’t super well known. One last fun fact before I sign off for the week, but, they’ve only located some of the bodies. Can you believe that? Where on earth could she have even hidden them?_

_Next time I go to visit the palace, I’m definitely going to check if it’s haunted. Should I bring an ouija board? Maybe after the holiday break, I’ll be able to update you all if any restless ghosts still haunt the halls. Or maybe a vengeful spirit?_

_Ha, well, that’s all, folks. Make sure to tune in next week for another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murder this is based off of: [Elizabeth Bathory](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_B%C3%A1thory)
> 
> I should, uh, hopefully, update soon lmao


	2. the man on the beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo! another big shoutout to [Wheat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnt_oranges/pseuds/burnt_oranges) for their edits! their 'crush theory' is my new approach to writing and i am in eternal debt to them.
> 
> also, thank y'all for the comments! it made this work week a lot better.

_In 1948, in a park on the coast of the Caldera, early morning walkers were in for the shock of their lifetimes. There, on the shore, was the body of a man. The authorities were contacted immediately. The hunt for the killer began as soon as humanly possible. Yet, even though an intensive and thorough investigation was conducted, the man’s identity is still a mystery. Even more of a mystery is the note left in the pocket of the man’s pants. The word ‘bì’, an old Fire Nation word for ‘finished’._

_Was this man a spy? An assassin who took on a mission out of his depth? Some sort of agent? Or was he just an innocent bystander, the victim of someone else’s schemes?_

_Welcome back to another episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. My name is Zuko, and I’m pretty excited for this week’s story. We’re going to my hometown, the Caldera, for probably one of the more fascinating murder mysteries that I’ve covered on the show. This one is pretty famous, so some of you may have heard about it, but hey, maybe I can provide something new. As usual, let’s give a shout out to my sponsor this week. If you’re trying to learn a new skill or become an expert in history, Wan Shi Tong’s Library, an online, open university--_

\-----------------------

Fall brings a lot of great things: (slightly) cooler weather, holidays galore, and the excitement of the end of the semester.

Unfortunately, the end of the semester also means finals. Which means that Sokka is currently wiping exhausted tears from his face as he stares at his notes for Marine Hydrodynamics. The professor had been oh so kind and provided a study guide. Not that this helped in any way, given that Sokka swears he’s never seen half of this material in his life.

“I fucking hate it here,” he says, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

Next to him, Suki lets out a small snort, even as she hands over a tissue from the box that she always seems to bring to their study sessions. She’s surrounded by books for her final Child Welfare paper, and, ever the over-achiever, the books for her thesis as well. 

(Also, apparently, in the time it took Sokka to come back from the bathroom after his first initial crying session, she’d found the time to finish her graduate school applications. Sometimes, Sokka thinks he might hate her.)

(Mostly, he just fears her.)

“You quite literally have a 4.0,” she says, not even bothering to glance up from her computer. “I say this kindly: shut up.”

Sokka sticks his tongue out at her (knowing that she’s currently reading up on different theories of child rearing and not, in fact, looking at her childish ex-boyfriend).

Suki and Sokka had dated their freshman year of college, but had broken up just six weeks in after Suki realized she was, in fact, gay. Which was fine, honestly. Well, obviously it was _fine_ , but fine in the emotional sense, too. They easily transitioned from being boyfriend and girlfriend to being the best friends in the entire world. In fact, it was Suki who had gotten him the internship on Kyoshi Island this summer for one of the top boat builders in the southern hemisphere. Though both of them spent most of the summer getting their asses kicked by their respective internships, they still found time to get coffee and hang out at the beach. And Suki still managed to squeeze in enough time to convince Sokka that there was, in fact, a sea monster living in the harbor. 

(Sokka may or may not have created a contraption to go find said sea monster. He will neither confirm nor deny this event.)

But summer has come and gone, and now they’re here, getting ready for finals that are just a couple of weeks away. It’s times like this that Sokka misses his freshman year, when his biggest stressor was his first-year philosophy gen-ed class, and he didn’t even have to start studying until the night before.

He groans again, thumping his head inside his textbook. Suki flicks the back of his skull, _tsk_ ing at him. 

“And to think you get any recognition from your department. What would they think now, Mr. Naval Architecture Student of the Year?”

“Please,” Sokka says, his voice muffled by the thick pages of his book. “I am begging you to shut up.”

She just laughs again, and slowly, Sokka sits back up, glaring at the page in front of him. It’s starting to get to the point that the numbers don’t even mean anything. Are these even numbers?

“Oh,” Suki says, staring off at something behind Sokka. “Didn’t you say that cute guy from the teashop had a big scar on his face?”

Sokka sputters a bit, his mouth opening and closing like a drowning fish. “That’s a little rude! That’s not all I said about him, thank you very much! I said he was very, _very_ handsome, in an exaggerated sort of way. Like how you’d expect a movie star to look. Very nice cheekbones, honestly I’m surprised he doesn’t contour. Or maybe he does--”

“Sokka,” Suki interrupts. “I’m asking because there’s a very attractive guy who just entered the library who has a very large scar on his face. And yes, he has nice cheekbones.”

Sokka whips around in his seat towards the entrance to his library, and his mouth splits into a wide smile as he sees the cute boy from the other day-- _Zuko_ \-- walking in with his bag haphazardly slung over his shoulders. He’s looking at his phone with his AirPods in. Obviously not paying attention to his surroundings.

Sokka will just have to be loud, then. No problem there.

“Hey! Zuko!” Sokka yells. Suki groans and hides her face in her arms.

“Spirits, Sokka. We’re in the library.”

He just waves her off, and watches as Zuko looks around, his face startled. Sokka waves his arms in the air, trying to get his attention, and grins even wider when he sees that Zuko notices him. Zuko’s eyes widen, and he once again rapidly looking around, as if he were looking for another Zuko who could also possibly be standing right there. After a moment of standing there like an awkward turtleduck, he seems to realize that Sokka did, in fact, mean him, and he slowly approaches the table. 

Zuko stops about half a meter from their table, and shifts a bit on his feet for a moment, before gently clearing his throat. “Um, hi? Sokka, right?”

Sokka nods his head quickly. “That’s me! It’s so good to see you again! I didn’t realize you went here?”

Zuko gives a small shrug. “It’s a big school. I’m a senior, yeah. Film major. And literature, but I, uh, already finished the requirements for that major. Not that you asked. Or needed to know. Right.”

Suki is now the one grinning. “I’m Suki! Sokka’s told me so much about you.”

Both boys blush, and Zuko looks down at the ground. Sokka shoots her a glare. She better not scare him off. 

“Are you already sitting with anyone?” Sokka asks. He gestures to the large, mostly empty table in front of him. “We’d love it if you sat with us.”

“Yeah,” Suki agrees. “Please, sit.”

Zuko looks at the table, before eyeing the two of them suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. “I won’t be imposing?”

“Not at all!” Suki says. She starts to clear some books that were piled up next to one of the chairs. “Please, sit! The more the merrier.”

He pauses for just another moment, before letting out a deep sigh and sitting at the table, in a chair nearest to Suki, but across from Sokka. “Thanks,” he says. “I’m just working on my thesis.”

“For your film major?” Suki asks.

“Yeah, uh.” Zuko starts digging through his backpack, pulling out his laptop and a notepad. “I’m doing a thesis on what’s considered the golden era of Fire Nation cinema. From the 1950s, mostly. End of the war and all that.”

“That’s so cool!” Sokka says. “I love old films.”

Zuko smiles a bit, his face growing fond, his eyes softening. “Yeah, me too. I used to watch them with my mom all of the time, but now I mostly watch them with my uncle.”

“Are you from the Fire Nation?” Suki asks. “I only ask since I’m from the Earth Kingdom, and Sokka is from the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Oh,” Zuko says. “Cool! Yeah, actually. I’m from the Caldera.”

Sokka nods along to this. To be honest, he doesn’t know that much about the capitol of the Fire Nation. But Suki leans forward, her eyes a bit narrow.

“What’s your family name?” she asks.

Zuko smirks, and Sokka feels like he’s missing something. “Xia,” he says. 

Suki lets out a small, startled laugh. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Sokka asks. His eyes dart back and forth between them, his head turning a bit with each movement.

“Nothing,” Suki says. Her face looks a bit too smug for Sokka’s comfort. “I’ve just heard of his family before. They came up in one of my classes.”

“What’s your major?” Zuko asks.

“Social work.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding. “Totally makes sense, then.”

Sokka’s eyes widen. “You must have some weird, fucked up ancestor to end up in a social work textbook.”

Zuko looks over at him, shocked, and the table is silent for a moment, before Zuko breaks out into a loud, ringing laughter. The sound is so beautiful that Sokka can’t help but start chuckling along. It’s contagious.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, catching his breath. “You could say that.”

Suki snorts, before turning back to her paper. Sokka is still… ridiculously confused, but he allows the subject to drop. “I’m a naval architecture major, if you’re curious.”

Zuko’s eyebrow raises. “That sounds… impressive. A lot of math.”

Sokka nods solemnly. “Too much math.”

“Gross. I mean, no offense.”

“None taken,” Sokka says easily. “So how’d you end up working at the Jasmine Dragon?”

“Oh, yeah. My uncle actually owns the shop, so I just do it to help him out. I’m very cheap labor, especially since I live with him in the apartment above.”

Sokka whistles a bit, thinking back to the prime location of the shop. “Nice view, I guess.”

Zuko cocks his head a bit. “I’ve never thought about it, but yeah. My parents’ house has a nice view, too. So I guess I’m just used to seeing the ocean.”

“Oh yeah, in Caldera? You can see the ocean from there?” Sokka could have sworn that the city was literally located inside of a volcano.

“Depends on where in the city you’re living, yeah. But I’m in a neighborhood closer to the water, though I think we also have an apartment inside the Caldera. That’s where my dad would go for work. I think. Or did he come home every night?” Zuko pauses, eyes far off as if he’s trying to think about something. “I should probably know this.”

But Sokka is too distracted to really focus on what might be an important confession about Zuko’s homelife. He leans forward a bit, resting his head on his hand, his eyes wide. “Wait, wait. Was this neighborhood near a park on the water?”

Zuko looks over at him again. “There’s a lot of parks on the water.”

Suki snorts, but doesn’t look up from her notes.

“No, no. I’m thinking of this one particular park. I heard about it in this podcast, where this body just like… mysteriously showed up seventy years ago. It washed up onto the shore and they have no idea who it was. Uh, he had a note. It said, um, something in the old Earth Kingdom dialect-”

“Old Fire Nation dialect,” Zuko interrupts. “It was the old Fire Nation dialect.”

Sokka’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “Holy shit, you listen to ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’, too?”

Zuko blinks a few times, completely quiet. He looks as if he’s deeply considering something, before letting out a small chuckle and shaking his head. “Yeah, something like that. But no, that park is in a different neighborhood. Pretty park, though.”

Sokka lets out a dreamy sigh. “I’d love to see it someday.”

“You want to go on a murder tour?” Suki asks, cocking her head to the right, a small, fond smile forming.

Sokka nods enthusiastically. “Absolutely! Maybe that’s what I’ll do when I graduate. Start a Murder Mystery tour company. Via boat, of course.”

“You really are a murder mystery fan, huh?” Zuko asks, though it doesn’t really sound like a question. Sokka might care that he’s been so easily read, but he’s too caught up in the joy of true crime.

“Huge! You?”

Zuko smirks, opening his notebook and settling into his seat a bit more, preparing to begin his work, by the look of it. “I’d say I’m a casual fan.”

\-----------------------

_Now, what’s interesting about this case is, given the dialect on the note, and the location of the body, it’d be simple to assume that someone from the Fire Nation had committed the crime. And with the line of thinking being that the anonymous man had been killed by a secret organization or the government, you’d think the eyes would easily turn to the noble families that lived there in the caldera. In fact, many of these families lived just a neighborhood away, in the Gangkou neighborhood._

_But these families were never investigated. They never even publicly acknowledged what was going on, instead living their life in their secluded neighborhood. At the time, the police chief was said to have owed a very powerful family, the Xia’s, a lot of favors. Apparently, they ensured that the Zhao family maintained their prominence and position as the Caldera’s main police family. It was and still is a tradition for the men in that family to become chief of police._

_Either way, though, the patriarch of that family, Sozin Xiu, was not a man who you wanted to cross. But that’s a story for another time._

_I think what really gets me about this story is where, exactly, in the park the man washed up. It was right near this small, family-owned teashop. It had the prime location of being in the middle of this beautiful park in one of the few working class neighborhoods left on the coast. For some reason, this case scared people away from the teashop. [laughs] I guess the dead body and police activity was a bit much. And, sadly, the teashop had to close down._

_My uncle, who I know I’ve talked about a bit on here before, owns a teashop, also on the coast. He’d be heartbroken if it had to close down. People who run teashops have a passion for tea, you know? It’s their driving force. Anyways, it’s a small point, but it makes me sad to think about this family losing their livelihood, all because one random morning, a stranger washed up onto the shore of a park, right in front of their shop._

\-----------------------

After the library, Sokka heads home to shower and bang his head against the wall. The rest of the library study session had been pretty quiet, considering they all had a copious amount of work to do, and Zuko had been the first to dip, citing his need to go help his uncle with inventory. Eventually, Suki had to leave for a group project meeting, and that had just left Sokka with himself and his engineering problems.

Hence, banging his head on the shower wall.

When he finally feels like he can close his eyes without seeing equations dancing in his head, he gets out of the shower and dries off. He shoots a glare at the stack of homework and study notes sitting on his desk, and lets out a long, deep sigh.

He really, probably, most likely should continue doing some work tonight.

But also… he stares forlornly at his bed. And then back at the notes. And back at the bed.

Dammit. 

The sun has long set, and if he’s going to hit his school-work goal tonight, he’s going to need a booster in the form of caffeine. After throwing on the comfiest clothes he can find, he drags himself to the kitchen and throws open the cabinets, only to let out a loud groan.

Of course he forgot to pick up coffee at the store. Of fucking course.

Once again, he bangs his head against the wall.

For a moment, he wonders how on earth he’s supposed to get through this solo study session without the aid of sweet, sweet caffeine, when his mind suddenly reminds him of a very specific and adorable tea boy.

And of the beautiful caffeinated drinks that surround him during his shift.

With speed he didn’t know he was capable of at this level at exhaustion, he throws on his sandals and a light jacket, and grabs his phone and wallet before rushing out of the door and down the stairs. He doesn’t even bother to lock his door. He has renter’s insurance, and maybe he can get out of his finals if someone steals his computer.

He’s halfway to the teashop when he realizes he never even bothered to check if the place was open this late at night. Sokka slows down, just a bit, and considers pulling out his phone to check. But just a moment after pausing, he shrugs to himself, before continuing on his fast pace to the shop. What’s life without some risk?

(Also, there’s a chain coffee shop next door that Sokka knows for a fact is open until midnight, even if their coffee is absolute garbage.)

He finally turns onto the main street where the shop is located, and allows himself to appreciate the ambiance of Ember Island at night. String lights hang over the streets, and after rush hour, the city shuts down the road to cars, letting restaurants and cafes fill the streets with tables. There’s students and normal, actual adults alike sitting out for late night dinner and drinks. Sokka allows himself a moment of brief jealousy. The students have to be business majors if they’re this carefree at this point in the semester, right?

He sees the Jasmine Dragon, and is ecstatic to see the lights still on, and some students sitting in the window, as studious as can be. For a moment, Sokka wishes he’d brought his books to study here, but also, knowing him, he’d end up doing everything but homework.

Opening the door, his eyes automatically scan the room for the tea boy himself, but unfortunately, Zuko is nowhere to be seen. Behind the counter is a girl about his age, and she gives him a big smile.

“Hi!” she says as he approaches. “What can I get ya?”

Sokka looks at the menu, before slowly realizing that he knows next to nothing about tea.

“Um… what’s the most caffeinated--”

“Matcha,” she interrupts, before looking a bit abashed. “Sorry, we just get that question a lot. But matcha is the most caffeinated. Long study night?”

He laughs, pulling out his wallet. “For sure. And I’ll take one of those, please.”

“Great! Can I get a name?” she asks, taking his card.

“Sokka. Spelled ‘S’ with an ‘-okka’.”

She looks up from the register to him, her eyes wide. “Oh my god, you’re that guy Zuko talked about!”

Sokka’s eyes widen, and he leans forward a bit. “He’s talked about me?”

“Yeah! He’s in the back with his uncle. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Jin, by the way.”

He’s barely paying attention, (though maybe he should be), and he eagerly bounces on his feet a bit, the excitement evident in his entire body. “When did he mention me?”

Jin’s face looks a bit conspiratorial, and the left side of her lips curve upward just a bit. “Why? Do you think he’s cute?” Sokka’s mouth drops, and before he can even utter a defense, she just laughs. “Ha! I can’t blame you. Zuko is great. We went on a date once, but it didn’t go anywhere. He mentioned when he came in today that he studied with you at the library and asked if I’d ever had class with you. I’m an engineering major. Chemical, though.”

“Right. That makes sense. Yeah, we studied. Cool major!” he blurts out, his face reddening. "I’ll just go… uh, wait over here. For my drink. It’s to-go.”

The other side of her lips start curving upwards. “Right. I’ll call your name when it’s ready.”

Sokka shuffles over to the far side of the counter, his face still as bright as a tomato. In the past twenty-four hours, he swears he hasn’t been capable of a single normal interaction. Maybe all of his studying is making his social skills deteriorate. 

From his spot, he can see a bit behind a curtain that apparently opens up into the back. He watches as Jin pokes her head through the curtain and says something, though he can’t make out the specifics over the noise of the various coffee shop machines and the lo-fi music coming out of the speaker near his ear. When she closes the curtain, she looks over at him with a sly look.

Sokka does not trust that look.

A moment later, the curtain opens, and he sees Zuko pop his head out to look around the shop before landing on him. Sokka gives a small wave in greeting, and softly smiles as Zuko waves back and makes his way over.

“Still studying?” Zuko asks.

Sokka snorts. “It never stops. Needed a bit of a pick me up to get through the night. It’ll be a long one.”

Zuko shudders. “Math.”

“Truly nightmare worthy,” Sokka agrees. “Must be a lot of inventory.”

“Huh?” Zuko asks, before his face lights up in realization. “Oh! Yeah, we finished that an hour ago, but now I’m helping with bookkeeping. I think that might be worse.”

“That’s the worst type of math,” Sokka says, giving his own shudder of horror. “Like, bills and stuff. Balancing checkbooks. I’m garbage at it.”

Zuko nods. “Same, but my uncle says I need to learn and that it’s a life skill and all that. Which is completely true. I still hate it, though.”

Sokka laughs. “Yeah, life skills are usually the worst to learn. Your uncle owns this place, yeah?”

“Mm-hm,” Zuko says. He gestures vaguely towards the back. “He opened it a few years ago, like right before I started going to university. Said he wanted a change of pace. It’s a pretty nice deal, actually. I get to live with him for free and I just help him around the shop when needed. Saves me money on food.”

Sokka gives a wistful sigh. “Spirits, the things I’d do to have free food. Why did I ever want a place of my own?” For a moment, he is lost in thoughts of not having to cook for himself. Sokka makes a mental note to call his mom tomorrow and remind her of how much he loves her. Maybe she’ll send a care package for finals. 

He has a few things to discuss with her anyways. Like how school is going, obviously, and asking if she has listened to the new episode of-- oh! “Ha! You know that podcast I mentioned earlier?”

Zuko stares at him for a moment, face blank. “Yeah, I know it.”

“The host’s uncle also owns a teashop. What a coincidence! The Fire Nation sure does love them some tea.”

Zuko continues to just stare, before letting out a small chuckle. “Yeah, that. We do love tea.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence, before Sokka clears his throat a bit. “So, um. Any plans this weekend, or just working on your thesis?”

His eyes light up now with excitement. “Oh, no way. I’m actually going to one of those underground bending tournaments, in one of the old warehouses on the eastside. Have you heard of it? The tournament?”

Sokka’s eyes brighten too, and he bounces a bit on his feet. “That’s wild! I’m going too! One of my good friends is competing. She’s an earthbender! Are you going with anyone? A group of us are all going. Us being my friends.”

“I figured,” Zuko says. “But I’m actually going with my ex. We always go to these fights together.”

It’s now Sokka’s turn to stare blankly. “Your… ex?”

“Yeah, um. We used to go a lot when we were dating, and even afterwards, we just enjoy going together. No one is as good at shit talking as he is.” Zuko frowns a bit. “It’s a bit of a shame, really. He just has a knack for it.”

A few things go through Sokka’s brain at this time. One: _he_. Which means, Zuko’s dated men. Which means, the flirting that Sokka thought was maybe happening yesterday could’ve actually been happening. Two: Sokka really needs to show Zuko true shit talking. No one was better than Sokka.

But some things can’t be said on the third meeting, so Sokka just gives a small chuckle instead. “Well, I guess I can’t judge too much. Suki is my ex, too.”

“It has to show at least some maturity if you can still be friends with your ex, right?” Zuko says, though it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “Though, him and I aren’t exactly _friends_.”

“You just go to watch people beat the shit out of each other in an abandoned warehouse?”

Zuko considers this, before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess. As good as a friendship I can ask for, really.”

Sokka opens his mouth to say something, when an elderly man pops his head out from behind the curtain. He looks around the shop, just as Zuko had just a minute earlier, before finding Zuko and letting a large smile fill his round face. “Ah, Zuko, my boy. I’m so sorry to interrupt, but could you come help me with some boxes?”

Zuko nods, before turning to Sokka. “Well, it was nice seeing you. Maybe I’ll see you at the fight?”

Sokka smiles, giving a small thumbs up. “I’ll look out for you!”

Zuko smiles in return, before turning to head back behind the curtain, looking back one last time at Sokka before the fabric closed behind him. Sokka watches it close, letting out a content sigh. He feels happy. Full. Complete.

That is, until he notices a satisfied looking Jin standing at the counter with a to-go cup.

“What great timing! I definitely wasn’t taking my time when making your drink or anything,” she says as she holds it out to him.

“I have a feeling you’re very sneaky and that you conspire against Zuko,” Sokka says as he takes the drink.

“ _Against_ Zuko? Never.” She holds her hand to her chest, looking aghast. “For the benefit of my local idiot friend Zuko? Always.”

“Sounds like true friendship to me,” he responds, taking a sip of this drink. “Oh, this is delicious.”

“I’m a master at my craft. See you next time, Sokka.” And with that, she gives a quick wink before turning back to a task behind the counter.

Sokka would like to argue that she has no idea if there will even be a next time, but as he glances one more time at the curtain (and takes another sip of this truly delicious drink), he has to concede that she’s probably right.

He hates when people can perceive him.

\-----------------------

_Even to this day, the mystery is unsolved. It’s left the forefront of most people’s minds, though many of the elders in that neighborhood can tell stories of the drama and chaos that surrounded the story at the time._

_As always, it feels like the wealthy and powerful have, as always, evaded justice. It seems to be a theme with a good chunk of murder mysteries. It makes you think about your own significance with that, you know? Have you benefited from it? Or been harmed?_

_And that guy’s family. Did they ever know what happened to him? Why didn’t they come forward when his face was plastered across every newspaper in the world? Did he even have a family?_

_Sometimes, these anonymous cases can be sad, once you get past the excitement of the mystery. There’s either a family not allowed to mourn, or a person who isn’t mourned at all. I can’t really decide what’s worse. I don’t always have a great relationship with my own family, but at least I know I have some people I can depend on in my life. Like my uncle who I mentioned earlier._

_Maybe the further we get from the case, perhaps a few decades from now, someone will come forward, and the man on the beach will be properly honored. But until then, I think the best we can do is tell his story._

_That’s the point of all of this, really. To tell the stories of people who can’t tell their own. Sure, they’re fascinating. But at the end of the day, I hope to honor the victims, even if it’s just by acknowledging that what was done to them was wrong, and calling out when the perpetrators evaded justice._

_Sorry. Didn’t mean to get deep on main. Anyways, that’s this week’s episode of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. I hope you all tune in next week. I know finals are approaching for university students everywhere, so maybe I can be the background noise to your study session._

_Be safe out there!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> murder this week's chapter was based off of: [the Tamam Shud case](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamam_Shud_case)
> 
> i'm trying to do older murders just to ensure there's like.... no one alive who was personally affected by it. also, it's like... very loosely based off of it. 
> 
> hope to have the next chapter up in a week!


	3. eat the rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Wheat for beta-ing (:
> 
> Also, so sorry this is delayed. I have depression and working from home during a pandemic is even more depressing. Anyways, depression.
> 
> In better news, I cleaned up some of my depression-chaotic mess in my apartment today so (:

_ In 1906, a man in the southern Earth Kingdom faced the firing squad, convicted of killing 4 people. In most instances, he’d go down as nothing but a murderer, forgotten by history. But instead, his story lives in the hearts of those who live there, who tell of a man who stood up to the wealthy elite.  _

_ So, this week, I ask you to ponder: is he a martyr? Or is he just your run-of-the-mill murderer? _

_ My name is Zuko, and you’re tuning into another week of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. This week is a fascinating story, one I’ve only recently heard about. Though, to be fair, the chances of my parents teaching me about a killer who sought out the wealthy was pretty low. Mostly, my father was fond of telling me tales about spirits who ate disappointing children.  _

_ Anyways.  _

_ As always, a shout-out to our sponsor. This week, I’m super hyped to talk about Roku Rafting Company, the only company currently taking you up close and personal to a flowing volcano— _

\-----------------------

Sokka waits outside waiting for Suki and Aang, finishing his joint he’d started earlier. Did he need to be high for this event? No. Was it more fun to watch high? Absolutely. It was surprisingly chilly tonight, and he pulls his jacket closer to him with his free hand, dancing a bit on the heels of his feet, trying to activate any cells that could possibly warm him up. 

It doesn’t work. 

He has no idea how biology works. 

Finally, from a distance, he can hear Aang’s high-pitched laugh. The airbender could be heard from across the island, and possibly has the most distinctive laugh in… well, honestly the entire Fire Nation, if not the entire world. If it wasn’t for his ridiculous height and normally deep voice, Sokka would swear Aang had never gone through puberty. 

Sokka turns his head towards the sound and can see the vague humanoid blobs of his friends. He could see Suki, with her short bob bouncing with each step, and Aang’s silhouette of his bald head. But there was a third figure who Sokka couldn’t quite make out. About Suki’s height, long hair braided back, leaning up close to Aang—

“Holy shit, Katara?” Sokka asks, quickly stubbing out his joint and throwing it into a bush. He does not need the lecture on smoking, thank you very much. He approaches them, his pace quick, and he pulls his sister into a tight hug, smiling as she embraces him. “What are you doing here?”

She pulls a bit away, looking him in the eyes with a wide smile on his face. “I have a three-day weekend, and I thought I’d surprise you.”

Sokka is so happy, so unbelievably happy, and he can’t keep the smile off of his face. But, Sokka is, at the end of the day, an older brother. He gives her a small nudge with his elbow, his smile transforming into a smirk. “I bet you also wanted to come see your boyfriend, huh?”

Katara blushes, and he reaches over to rub her hair a bit, ignoring her squawk of indignation and Aang’s laugh once again filling the street. Aang and Katara had been dating for a couple of years now-- they met when Aang and his guardian had come to visit the Southern Water Tribe a couple of years back, and Sokka could’ve sworn he’d seen actual sparks fly when the two first saw each other. They’d all met in his parents’ home, huddled together near the fireplace, and when Katara had come in to the room to offer Aang some hot cocoa, she’d almost immediately dropped the steaming mug in her hand, and Aang had accidentally caused the fire to go out with his air bending. 

It’s one of those moments Sokka always wishes he’d recorded. 

Even though they go to different schools-- Aang is a history and religion major here at Ember Island-- they saw each other as often as possible, which was really just a few times scattered throughout the school year, and video chatted at least three times a day.

It was kind of gross. But also cute. 

Suki is smiling as well, and comes over to give Sokka a gentle hit on the arm, causing him to smile even more. 

“Shall we go watch people beat the shit out of each other?” Suki asks.

“Lead the way, my queen,” Sokka responds, gesturing ahead.

It’s only about a fifteen minute walk from his apartment to the industrial area of the island. Industrial is really too harsh of a word to describe the neighborhood-- there’s factories, sure, but they’re the fanciest factories Sokka has ever seen. The entire island seems to be dead-set on not seeming too, well, poor. When the Fire Nation was still a monarchy, Ember Island was where the royals and nobles came to vacation. And even after the dissolution of the monarchy, those same families still held on to Ember Island with tight fists, and the regal aesthetic stayed. 

Luckily, just one of them is abandoned and dingy enough for underground fighting to even be tolerated here. Considering that the fight takes place in a building off of the main street and a ways away from any residences, the cops usually ignore the event in lieu of hunting down drunken college students.

The walk consists of them all catching up-- Katara talking about her classes up in Agna Q’ela and the recent Equinox holiday they just celebrated in the city (which may or may not have had Sokka feeling homesick for some Water Tribe food), and Aang complaining about his Fire Nation professor who doesn’t know shit about Air Nomadic queer theory, but keeps trying to teach on it. It’s fun, and Sokka has a big, dopey grin on his face the whole time. When they finally make it, he’s not surprised to see a crowd already forming. The Rumble always brings out a large audience, especially if they know the Blind Bandit is participating in the festivities. 

“Do we need tickets? I can never remember,” Katara asks as they climb under the dilapidated fence that unsuccessfully blocks off the building from the general public.

“Nah, they just want you to buy some snacks,” Suki says. “Apparently, there’s a dumpling food truck tonight.”

Sokka’s stomach grumbles in appreciation, and he quickly makes his way over to the food truck, unsurprised to see Aang following after him. In fact, some of Aang and Sokka’s first bonding experiences revolved around dumplings and the absolute delectable and succulent nature of these tasty little pastries. Whenever either of them had free time, they’d try and hunt down the most bizarre dumpling they could find.

“Think they have vegetarian options?” Aang asks.

“Well, and don’t ever remind me that I said this, but veggie dumplings are the best,” Sokka says. For a man with an admittedly unhealthy meat addiction, this is a pretty big confession.

Aang giggles, and pats Sokka on the shoulder. “Glad you came around to the green side of things.”

Sokka groans. “Don’t push your vegan propaganda on me.”

“I’d never,” Aang replies with mock offense. 

The line for the dumplings is a bit long, but there’s still another fifteen minutes until the fight, and this factory has the benefit of there not being a bad place to stand and watch. He imagines the earthbenders are already carving out a nice little pit for the fight to take place in. And the firebenders are working on setting the scene with the dramatic torches they always enjoy lighting. Sometimes, if they’re feeling fancy, the waterbenders will make little ice sculptures.

When Sokka first started going to fights like this, he was jealous. And he’s not ashamed to admit it. Seeing benders fight and utilize the elements in such unique and supernatural ways made him green with envy. But, over time, and really after he formed a close friendship with Suki, he learned to accept that even if he wasn’t a bender, he still had a unique skill set. For instance, being great at physics and math, and his boomerang and traditional fighting skills.

And, right, now, being a very good listener when his friends needed to vent.

Aang is continuing to lament on the (admittedly very terrible) teachings of his professor, with Sokka throwing in some suggestions with how to deal with the department heads in the event of a formal complaint, when he spots a familiar messy bun from a distance.

“Oh shit, it’s Zuko,” Sokka says, eyes wide. He knew he was coming tonight, but actually seeing him here is something else. He’s standing with most of his back to Sokka, just some of the left side of his face visible, and he’s talking to his ex, who upon closer inspection is… Jet?

“Zuko Xia?” Aang asks. “You know Zuko?”

Sokka is still pondering that Jet might in fact be the ex Zuko came here with, in which case he’s about to have to deal with a very annoyed Katara, when he processes what Aang said and whips around to stare at him. “How do you know Zuko?”

Aang shrugs. “He takes religion classes sometimes. His family is old money and pretty in with the Fire Sages, so he has a lot of cool knowledge on Fire Nation religion. You know him?”

Sokka blushes. “Yeah, met him the other day at the Jasmine Dragon. He’s kind of cute, right?”

Aang pauses for a moment, before grinning and nodding enthusiastically. “Very cute! You should tell him that. You should ask Zuko on a date--”

“Aang, spirits,  _ please _ , I just--”

“Zuko! Hey! Zuko! Oh, are you with Jet? Hi Jet!” Aang yells, waving his hands around in the air. Sokka groans, hiding his face in his hands as everyone in the general vicinity turns to look. Including Zuko and Jet. 

Sokka peeks through his fingers and watches with something akin to horror as Zuko looks over at Aang with a shocked face and Jet laughs behind him, saying something that makes Zuko flush. The two men talk for a moment, Zuko’s face red as he whispers something to Jet, who gives a slight (obnoxious) smirk before he gives a small shrug. Zuko shoots him a small glare, but the two walk over, stopping just a foot away from Aang and Sokka.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jet says as a greeting. “Sokka, it’s been a while.”

“Thank the spirits for that,” Sokka mumbles. Him and Jet hadn’t really gotten along when him and Katara had dated way back in high school. Jet had lived in Harbor City for just a year while his parents did some work in the harbor there, and he’d always been too… well, fine, okay, Sokka doesn’t have a good reason to hate him. The kid was just too confident when Sokka had absolutely zero confidence. Just let him have a grudge. 

Sokka turns to Zuko with an arched eyebrow. “You didn’t mention that your ex is Jet.”

Zuko is still beet red, and he gives an apologetic shrug. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“I dated his sister back in high school,” Jet says. Zuko makes a little ‘oh’ with his mouth, eyes darting over to Sokka. “You remember I mentioned Katara? The super gifted waterbender?”

Zuko’s eyes widen a bit, and he looks over at Sokka. “Katara is your sister? Damn, this really is a small world.”

Sokka has to agree, even if he feels annoyed when Jet laughs. “What can I say? I have a thing for powerful benders.”

“Are you two dating?” Aang asks, his eyes quickly flashing to Sokka, as if checking if he was aware of this fact. 

Jet shakes his head. “Nah, we broke up… what, six months ago?”

But Sokka isn’t really caring about that, looking at Zuko in a new light. “You’re a bender?”

Zuko nods slowly. “Yeah, I mean… Yeah, I’m a firebender. Did you not know?”

“His entire family is benders,” Jet says. “Think you’d have been put up for adoption if you’d been a nonbender?” he asks Zuko.

Sokka is ready to get offended on Zuko’s behalf, and is a bit shocked when he lets out a snort. “My dad probably would’ve just tossed me in the ocean, let’s be real.”

The distress is evident on Aang’s face, though there’s understanding in his eyes, as if he’s aware of the situation at hand. Which everyone seems to be aware of the situation at hand. Sokka frowns and starts to open his mouth, but Suki and Katara have made their way over, Katara rolling her eyes as she spots Jet.

“I can’t visit without running into you, huh?” she asks, though her voice is good natured. She’d never quite hated him. They’d actually ended the relationship on good terms, after Jet had needed to leave Harbor City at the end of his parents' tenure there. Sokka is just petty. Sue him. 

Jet laughs, leaning over to give her a quick hug as Zuko and Suki say hi to each other. Everyone moves as a unit as the dumplings line scoots up, the groups freely mingling. 

Katara looks at Zuko and gives a polite smile. “I’m Katara,” she says.

He gives a small wave in return. “Zuko,” he says. 

Suki gives Katara a small elbow nudge. “He’s a Xia.”

“Is that what I’m going to be known for going forward?” Zuko asks, voice a bit pained. “I swear, there’s other interesting facts about me.”

“I don’t know,” Katara says, caution evident in her voice. “That’s a pretty interesting fact. You’re Zuko Xia?”

“The one and only.”

She lets out a low whistle and Sokka finally reaches his breaking point, throwing his hands up in the air. “Okay, can someone let me know what’s going on? What’s the big deal with his last name?”

Everyone stares at him with a bit of shock, though Zuko looks… pleased? 

Katara shakes her head in disbelief. “You live in the Fire Nation and don’t know who the Xia family is? Really? I don’t even live here.”

Sokka lets himself give a small pout. “Hey, we can’t all keep up with politics.” He turns to Zuko. “Is it politics? Is that what your family does? Or are they like oil tycoons?”

Zuko smirks. “Why not both?”

“Terrifying.”

“You have no idea,” Jet says.

They’ve finally made it to the front, and the worker raises an eyebrow at Sokka. 

“What are you ordering?” he asks, voice impatient.

“Um…” Sokka looks over to the rest of the group. They’d all been standing in this damn line together for five minutes, do they want anything?

Jet and the girls wave him off, but Zuko pulls out a crumbled bill. “Here, I’ll take an orange soda.”

Sokka’s face brightens. “I  _ love _ orange soda.”

“Me too!” Zuko says. “It has the absolute best flavor, and even though it’s not caffeinated--”

“No offense,” the worker interrupts. “But there is a line.”

Both Sokka and Zuko flush at the reprimand, and Sokka quickly spews the gargantuan veggie dumplings order for him and Aang.

The group moves off to the side, still sticking together. For a moment, Sokka allows himself to stare at Zuko as he talks to Jet and Aang. Zuko is a mystery, but, it seems he’s only a mystery to Sokka. It’s frustrating, and a part of him is tempted to pull out his phone and just google who the hell this Xia family is.

But, he remembers just a few moments ago, when Zuko seemed a bit agonized over only being known for being a Xia. Which, yeah, it would suck to have to constantly be known for your family. It’s not like Zuko signed up for that. And, hell, even if Sokka is curious, he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries with Zuko. He seems to be so, so,  _ so _ , pleased that Sokka doesn’t know. 

So, Sokka thinks to himself, giving a small nod. This will just stay a mystery until Zuko is comfortable telling him. 

Though, speaking of mysteries…

“So,” Sokka says, turning to Zuko, interrupting his and Aang’s very lively discussion about all of the ways this professor sucks (and honestly, why don’t they just report the guy, he’s not even tenured). “Did you listen to the latest episode?”

Zuko arches his eyebrow. “Of?”

“‘That’s Murder, Buddy’! This week’s episode was on that guy who killed rich people. Like, a hundred years ago?”

Zuko is starting to form a small smile again, and Aang blinks a few times, before he turns to look at Sokka with a concerned look on his face. “Isn’t the host of that show named Zuko?”

“Yep,” Sokka and Zuko say at the same time, though Zuko looks obnoxiously close to laughing 

“I think it’s a common name here,” Sokka says.

Aang looks frankly shocked, and he looks over at Zuko who gives a shrug. “Right,” Aang says.

“I did, um,  _ listen _ , though,” Zuko says. “He’s an interesting guy. The murderer.”

Sokka is about to press for more information, but his name is called and he’s being summoned to go retrieve the exorbitant amount of dumplings he ordered. In the forty-five seconds it takes for him to grab the order and come back, Zuko and Jet are already off, entering the building together.

“They have a specific spot they always sit at, so they wanted to make sure to grab it before anyone else takes it,” Suki explains. Sokka frowns, staring off at their retreating figures. He’d hoped the bonding-while-waiting-for-dumplings had built more rapport. “Shall we?”

The group of them head in, filing in behind the crowds of people. As they enter the building, Sokka can’t help but once again being impressed at how much effort goes into making this slightly-illegal function look so professional.

If someone didn’t know that this was an abandoned factory, they might think that this was an arena. The pit for the fighting has been dug out, and the sides are filled with stands that are quickly filling up with college students and Ember Island locals alike. There’s a sea of greens, blues, reds, and yellows, everyone wearing the color of their favorite type of bending. And, despite this being in the Fire Nation, it’s a pretty even spread of color.

And, despite Sokka and Katara being Water Tribe, they’re both wearing green in honor of Toph.

Also, the waterbender competing in this is kind of a dick.

After the hellish week he’s had preparing for exams, he’s unreasonably excited to watch people get their asses kicked. Without even consciously deciding to do so, Sokka’s eyes scan the crowd, looking for Zuko, secretly hoping he’s nearby. He spots him across the stadium, smirking at something Jet issaying.

Sokka ignores the bit of jealousy that formed in his stomach. This is a no-jealousy zone. Anyways, he can’t afford anymore misplaced resentment towards Jet. 

He and Aang crack open the dumplings and go to town, but after only having time to demolish three phenomenally steamed, perfectly stuffed dumplings, the lights start to dim, and some firebenders come out into the center of the arena, standing together to create a flame representing the Fire Nation insignia, followed by the symbols for the other nations. 

The crowd is going crazy, the cheers deafening, and by the time the announcer for the evening steps out, everyone is already too hyped to function, the screaming fans drowning out the speakers. 

And, happily, Sokka forgets, just for now, about his mysterious crush. 

(Sadly, Sokka forgets about his dumplings.)

\-----------------------

_ He was only charged with killing four people. Compared to some of the other murderers we have on here, this seems pretty light. It wasn’t really anything to dwell on, which is why it’s fascinating in and of itself that he wasn’t just forgotten as time moved on. _

_ But that’s, of course, where it gets interesting. All four victims were well-known in the political or business spheres, and three of them were known to be loan sharks. A loan shark, for those who aren’t familiar with the term, are people who charge extremely high interest rates. They’re disgusting. If you’re a loan shark and listening to this: fuck you. _

_ Anyways, he killed these people using clubs and other blunt objects. Essentially, he beat them to death. It wasn’t like they had a nice, peaceful departure to the spirit world. He made them suffer a bit. And then, as any reasonable person would do after killing a rich person, he robbed them. _

_ I am not passing judgement for robbing rich people, I just want to make that perfectly clear. _

_ He was apprehended after the the fifth murder attempt, against a wealthy dentist. When police searched his home, they found the stolen items hoarded away. So, he wasn’t redistributing the goods. He wasn’t selling them either. What was he doing? _

_ Why does this matter? _

\-----------------------

Toph beat the airbender’s ass. Like completely obliterated him. He tried every method in the book, but she threw rock after rock. It was ridiculous. It was amazing.

Sokka doesn’t have a voice at this point.

He’s still in that post-fight high as they trickle down closer to the arena so they can congratulate Toph, who is currently preening under the praise she’s getting. Sokka is replaying that moment where she somehow noticed a bit of metal in the pit and  _ bended it and tossed it _ , and while the airbender struggled to avoid that incoming disaster, she also had cracks approaching him at all sides--

Spirits, he loves fights.

They make it down to the bottom, and Toph, via her feet of course, notices that they’ve arrived and makes her way over, a large smile on her face. She’s one prideful competitor, but she deserves it.

“Didn’t know you were coming in this weekend, Sweetness,” she says to Katara, giving her a light punch on the arm. 

“I wasn’t going to miss you demolish every other bender, now was I?” Katara responds, giving Toph’s shoulder a squeeze.

Before anyone else can say anything, Toph whips around, her smile growing even wider, and Sokka follows with his eyes to where she’s turned, only to see Zuko fastly approaching, his face covered with a large grin.

“Holy shit, Toph!” he says, reaching down to pick her up and give her a large hug, which she returns with a loud laugh. Next to him, his friends are watching with their mouths dropped. “You were amazing!”

He places Toph down, though she stays close to him. “Think I could give Princess a run for her money?”

_ Princess? _

Zuko laughs, and Jet even snorts. “Absolutely. You know she’d love to spar next time she’s in town.”

Who the fuck is Princess?

Jet reaches over and gives Toph a squeeze, and she beams at him. “You gotta come test out some of our new devices. I’m about to head out to help Smellerbee with one, actually. But you’ll let me know when you can come?”

“Do these new devices blow shit up?”

“Absolutely.”

“I am for sure texting you tomorrow.”

Jet laughs, giving her one more squeeze before giving Zuko a light flick on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later. Tell Uncle I said hello.”

Zuko sighs, but nods and gives him a light shove, and with that, Jet is off, saying goodbye to everyone else as he weaves in and out of the crowd.

“Princess?” Sokka asks.

“My sister,” Zuko clarifies. Next to him, Suki snorts and even Katara let’s out some sort of startled noise. The mystery, it seems, is back on.

“I didn’t know you knew Toph,” Aang says to Zuko.

“We’ve known each other for most of our lives. Don’t all rich people know each other?” Zuko asks, though his voice is teasing.

“Well,” Katara says, her voice neutral, though she’s looking a bit conspiratorial. “Suki, Aang, and I were going to run and get some boba before watching a movie. Do you both want to come?”

Zuko looks a bit startled and opens his mouth to reply, but Sokka interrupts him. He’s feeling a high, and not from weed. The high you can only get from watching someone get absolutely pummeled into the ground. “Actually, I was gonna ask if Zuko wanted to maybe go grab some food? Just us?”

Aang lets out a little  _ woop _ , and Suki gives him a punch on the arm, with a too audible  _ shut up, Aang _ .

Katara looks like she’s about to laugh.

Zuko’s face is red.

“Oh, um, I mean, I’d love to, but I don’t want to… your sister is in town, you know… didn’t you just eat?” he finally asks, blinking a few times as if he was trying to clear his head. 

“Oh, you know, the munchies,” Sokka says with a wave of his hand, ignoring Katara’s quick ‘ _ the munchies?’  _ “But I’m sure Katara and I will hang out tomorrow, if you’d like to go. I know a good diner. If you like diner food.”

“I like diner food,” Zuko says, his voice a bit quiet. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m positive.” Sokka is looking him square in the eye, and delighting in the continuous reddening of Zuko’s cheeks.

“I’d love to,” Zuko says finally. “Right. Yes. I’d absolutely love to.”

Sokka can’t keep the elation off of his face, and he rocks back on his feet a bit in order to stop himself from launching at Zuko and covering his delightfully pink face in kisses. “Excellent!” He holds his arm out, and can’t help the fondness that grows inside of him as Zuko cautiously walks forward and takes it. He knows his friends are watching with growing amusement, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He’s got a date with his tea shop crush.

\-----------------------

_ He never admitted to the murders, though, given the evidence, he was easily found guilty of the crimes. He was executed via firing squad, and that was the end of that.  _

_ Except, over time, he became a bit of a folk hero. His memory has stayed in the minds of those in that community. And at first, I just couldn’t understand why. He didn’t redistribute what he stole, he had a very off-putting relationship with someone much younger than him, and honestly, he only killed four people. What’s the big deal? _

_ But, on further reflection, as I sat up in bed thinking about this story, it finally dawned on me: it’s a story of hope. Of someone standing up to the people who keep others down. I want to be straight up and say that I’m not condining murder, but I get why a story of a man who killed the wealthy, killed loan sharks, became important. It showed that the oppressors in our community aren’t stronger. We can overcome. _

_ It made me reflect on my own life. I’ve briefly touched on this before, but I don’t have the best relationship with my family, who are, in many ways, similar to the victims in this story. At first, when I left, it was unwillingly. But after a while, I slowly learned that the things they do are bad, and that, for my own sanity, I needed to cut ties and become my own person. To try my best to not live in their image. To not carry on their history of cruelty. So far, it seems to be working pretty well. _

_ My mother, when she was alive, encouraged me to pretend to host podcast, or talk shows, or just really talk into this random microphone we had in a spare bedroom for some unknown reason. She thought it’d help me overcome my shyness. Which, honestly, I think was pretty useful. At first, I just did episodes talking about the Fire Nation-- and then after I got kicked out, I did podcasts on anything but the Fire Nation, to try and not remind myself what I’d just lost. But I’ll always vividly remember the first time I recorded a podcast--nothing that was published, mind you, just for fun-- after I’d realized how shit my family was, and the confidence I felt when I did a whole episode, which will never be aired, on progress towards overcoming trauma. It was sloppy. I just rambled. I think I cried once. _

_ But it’s something I’d never be allowed to discuss at home. Therapy was frowned upon. Talking about mental health was a big no. And here I was, talking about my own struggles with confidence. And that could only happen because I listened to other people open up. I saw others overcome. _

_ Sorry for the tangent, I think I’m also rambling here. _

_ What I’m trying to say is… this man is inspirational and important to others because he showed that anyone can fight back. Sure, he fought back via murder which is morally iffy, but he still did. And if he can fight back against the oppressors in his community, so can you. Or, you can fight back against yourself, when you’re beating yourself up. _

_ There’s always hope, I guess. _

_ Did this make sense? Ha, well, sorry. This case gave me a lot of thoughts that I hope I articulated well. _

_ Anyways, that’s it for this week. See y’all next time! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's murder is based off of Emile Dubois. I had to read about a million articles on him, so I'm not gonna link anything.
> 
> Thanks, y'all!


	4. the red-light district

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo! i have some fun sources at the bottom (like did y'all know they have costco in japan?) and the recipe for the pancakes i based this off of (they look delicious).
> 
> as always, big thanks to Wheat for beta'ing!

_In the city of Ba Sing Se, in what has been called The Red Light District, in the dark depths of the lower ring, sex workers getting ready for their night shift found themselves fighting for their lives. A man wielding a katana had snapped, going on a rampage and killing over one hundred innocent people. To this day, it remains one of the worst rampage murders in the history of the Earth Kingdom._

_But what was his motive? What brought him to commit such a heinous act? And why did he go to the Red Light District?_

_Welcome back to another week of That’s Murder, Buddy. I’m your host, Zuko, and today we’re heading to the largest city on the planet, and, personally, one of the most emotionally exhausting cities on the planet. Honestly, kudos to those of you who live there. But my brain breaks once I get into those crowds._

_As always, a huge shout-out to our sponsors. This week, we’re sponsored by Kuruk’s Kayaks, probably one of the most renowned kayak builders in not only the Water Tribes, but also the world, and who specialize in the traditional building methods--_

\-----------------------

The industrial district is, unfortunately, on the other side of the island from the twenty-four hour diner he had in mind, and Sokka is almost kicking himself for offering to go on a date when it’d take close to an hour to even walk anywhere. He turns to Zuko, ready to ask if he at least has his walking shoes, but when he opens his mouth, Sokka notices that he’s pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

“You drove?” he asks, his voice laced with gratitude.

Zuko arches his eyebrow. “Yeah, well, I was running some errands for my uncle before I came. I had to run to Costco.”

Sokka’s mouth drops a bit. “You have a Costco membership?”

“...Yes?” Zuko responds. “Is that… is that something that’s good?”

Sokka nods, walking up and wrapping his arm around Zuko’s shoulder. “Zuko, my--” he pauses, and Zuko is side-eyeing him, eyebrow still arched, “--my Zuko.”

Zuko blushes, and Sokka feels a surge of satisfaction.

“Having a Costco membership is the way to my heart. Not just for the meal combos, but have you seen the dumplings you can get there?”

“You must be a big fan of dumplings,” Zuko says, his lips quirking up.

“Huge,” Sokka responds. “Though, I’m an even bigger fan of diner food. Have you ever had a pancake? They’re like little… I don’t even know. They’re just so fluffy.”

Zuko chuckles, and waves his keys up. “Well luckily for you, I can drive us over there. The one on the east side of the island?”

Sokka nods, unwrapping his arm from Zuko’s shoulder. “You must be familiar with this island. Or, at least, it sounds like you are.”

They begin to walk over to where Sokka can see a cluster of cars packed in together. Honestly, Sokka wasn’t even aware that people drove to this event--though, it isn’t just college students who come, and it’s not like Ember Island is known for its robust public transportation.

“My family owns a beach house here, so I came a lot as a kid,” Zuko says. 

“Oh, shit,” Sokka responds. “Do you live at the beach house?”

Zuko snorts, turning his head a bit to give him an amused stare. “If only. No, my father would never allow me to live in the house. I don’t even visit it unless my sister is in town.” Zuko gives a light shrug. “Though, knowing my father, there’s cameras everywhere, so I probably wouldn’t want to be there anyways.”

_Oh?_ Sokka thinks. He tries to think about what he knows about Zuko, other than the fact that he has some sort of crazy family and that’s he’s from some ridiculously rich dynasty or something- rich enough to regularly interact with the fucking Beifongs.

And yet, Zuko works at a tea shop. Do rich kids even work?

They make it to the car park, and Zuko’s is right near the front. Sokka had seriously expected some sort of fancy electric car, and is pleasantly surprised to see a normal sedan.

Zuko seems to notice and lets out a laugh. “My normal car is at home,” he clarifies. “This is my uncle’s car that I just drive when I’m here.”

“Oh,” Sokka says. “Right. Because driving to an island...”

“Is impossible,” Zuko finishes. “Though, there _is_ a ferry, but it takes hours. Compared to just taking an hour long flight.”

“I’m so jealous,” Sokka says, and they both take a moment to get in the car. It’s a cozy inside-- old, fabric seats with one of those good smelling trees hanging on the rearview mirror. In the backseat, there’s some clutter consisting of books and paperwork. He turns to Zuko as he’s buckling in. “My flight is seven hours.”

Zuko lets out a long whistle, starting the car and buckling in. “Are you from Harbor City?”

“Yeah, my family has been in the area for generations. My dad likes to talk about how big it is compared to when he was a kid. Have you been?”

Zuko shakes his head, though he’s turned to back out of the spot, arm slung over the back of the passenger seat like one of those cheesy jocks in the teen romance movies-- and okay Sokka is only slightly swooning-- and takes a second before answering to start actually driving. 

“No, I’ve never been to the south. I’ve been to Agna Q’ela for some sort of function my parents had to attend, but I’ve mostly just been around the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation.”

Sokka nods. He gets it. Harbor City is a major city for the area, but it’s pretty recent that they’ve become more of an international city. 

“How’d you choose going to school here?” Zuko asks. 

“Well, I wanted to major in boat engineering, so it’s either here or Agna Qel’a, and the scholarships here were better, so… here I am.” There’s a bit of a silence. “What about you? Was this your top school?”

“It was either here or Caldera,” Zuko answers. His eyes don’t stray from the road. “And I wanted to get as far from home as possible.”

“Why only these two?”

Zuko considers this, cocking his head and biting his lip. “Hmm,” he starts. “Well, I don’t know how much you know about Fire Nation politics, but if you’re from what was the nobility back when this was a monarchy, you have pretty limited options. Socially. There’s high expectations.”

“And your family was nobility?”

Zuko chuckles. “My family was _the_ noble family.”

Sokka considers what that even means, before giving a small shrug, leaning back into the car seat and facing Zuko. The Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe had never necessarily been close-- some of the southern islands of the Fire Nation traded with the Southern Water Tribe, but that was about it for any sort of interaction. His people always thought the Fire Nation was too rigid. Seriously, the monarchy here abolished themselves, what, one hundred years ago? Ridiculous. 

The Southern Water Tribe doesn’t really _do_ nobility. Never have, honestly. It’s one of the main reasons they went down south in the first place— story is, some folks were tired of the rigidity of the North and fled to the other side of the world. Which, honestly, from Sokka’s experiences with the North, he can’t blame them. 

There’s a companionable silence for the next couple of minutes, with just the nighttime jazz on the public radio station filling the car. 

“Why’d you choose film, then?” he asks suddenly. 

“Uh,” Zuko responds, flipping his blinker on to turn on to the side street where the diner is located. “Two reasons, really. For one, it’d piss my dad off. He wanted me to major in something STEM.”

“Valid of you.”

“Thanks,” he responds drily. “Other reason is that I do really enjoy film. It was one of my mom’s passions, and we used to go to the art house theatre in Caldera together. So, I thought I’d study it. But I threw literature in there just because I also love books.”

“That’s a nice memory,” Sokka says. “Are you going to be a professor?”

“Probably?” Zuko answers. “I love to teach, and there’s a great program in Ba Sing Se. But,” he pauses now, turning the car into the parking lot of the cheesy, lit up diner. “I hate Ba Sing Se.”

“ _What?_ ” Sokka exclaims as Zuko parks the car. “I swear, I think you’re the second person I’ve heard say that recently. How can you hate Ba Sing Se?”

Zuko turns the car off, and turns to give him a withering glare. “Have you _been_ to Ba Sing Se? It’s atrocious. And crowded. And they haven’t updated their subway in decades.”

Sokka shakes his head in mock disgust, unbuckling and opening his car door. “Says the man from _Caldera_. Your subway system is practically non-existent!”

Zuko snorts, climbing out of the car and locking the car. “I’m not defending our atrocious lack of public transportation. However, caldera doesn't pretend to have a state of the art transport system,” Zuko says and when Sokka stares at him, Zuko throws his hands up in the air. “Half of the trains are still powered solely by earth-bending, Sokka! It's the 21st century'

Sokka walks around the car to meet him, giving him a nudge with his shoulder. “Got a lot of experience with Ba Sing Se?”

“Too much,” Zuko answers. “If I can never go again, I’ll be a happy man.”

“Is that the way to your heart? Just never take you to Ba Sing Se, and you’re a happy man?”

Zuko laughs— a raspy, beautiful laugh. “Yes, exactly. That’s all I need.”

Zuko opens the door for Sokka, who gives a mock bow of thanks before the two make their way to a cozy window booth in the corner. A waitress immediately appears with water and a disgruntled look. 

“Coffee?” she grunts. 

“Please,” Zuko responds, voice equally disinterested. Truly a man who understands the drawbacks of the service industry. “With cream.”

The waitress turns her blank, dead stare onto Sokka, who shrinks further into the booth. 

“Um, hot cocoa?”

“Whipped cream?” She couldn’t sound more unimpressed if she tried. 

“Please,” Sokka squeaks. 

She lets out a long-suffering sigh before heading off to get their drinks, and Sokka turns his wide, terrified eyes onto Zuko. 

“I feel like she’d happily stab me,” he says. 

Zuko laughs. “Most people in customer service would.”

Sokka shivers, but straightens when she comes back quicker than _anyone_ should be capable of, slamming their drinks on the table. 

“Food?” she asks. 

“Pancakes, extra fluffy,” Zuko says. He looks over at Sokka, who’s nodding his head quickly, and his lips quirk. “And the same for him.”

She snorts and turns without a word, wandering back off behind the counter. 

“How’d she even make hot chocolate this quick?” Sokka asks, looking at his steaming mug. 

Zuko arches his eyebrow. “Firebending?”

Sokka smacks his forehead. “How do I always forget about firebending? We just watched firebenders do their whole…. whole bending thing! Creating fire out of nothing! That whole thing!”

Zuko’s body is shaking with laughter now, hands clutching his sides. 

Sokka grumbles, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “Listen, I’m coming down. You can’t blame me.”

“Sure, sure,” Zuko says, still laughing. “You have some, uh…” he motions towards his upper lip. 

Sokka reaches a finger up, wiping up some whip cream. “Ah, excellent.”

“Very attractive,” Zuko says. 

Sokka glares at him, wiping his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

Zuko just takes a sip of his coffee, eyes alight with humor. Even under the harsh fluorescents of the diner, he looks like an ethereal being, and Sokka can feel the butterflies fluttering away in his stomach. 

Zuko places his coffee down, and looks at Sokka in return, leaning back a bit in the booth. “Your sister is a bender?” he asks. 

“Oh, Katara?” Sokka asks. “Yeah, waterbender. A prodigy.”

“Impressive,” Zuko says. “She doesn’t compete?”

Sokka shakes his head, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. “When we were younger, yeah. But now she wants to go into healing.” He plays a bit with the utensils in front of him, before he remembers something he’s been meaning to ask Zuko, something about the comment Toph made earlier. “Who’s Princess?”

Zuko looks surprised. “Who?”

“Princess? Toph said something…”

“Oh!” Zuko lets out a small huff. “My sister. Azula. Azula Xia?”

Sokka stares at him, and Zuko scoffs. 

“I call bullshit. There is no way you don’t know who Azula Xia is. Olympic firebender? She sponsors that self-filtering water bottle that has the speaker in the lid?”

Sokka blinks a few times, running through the last Olympics game-- held last year in Omashu-- trying to remember the faces. Okay, so the firebenders… there was that one guy who could make shapes, and then there was that one girl with blue fire… with blue fire--

“Holy shit, scary blue fire?” Sokka asks, his voice high pitched and incredulous.

“She can also shoot lightning, which I, personally, think is excessive.”

“She can _what_?” Sokka yells. Zuko starts laughing again, taking another sip of his coffee.

“But I can redirect it, so we used to practice with each other,” Zuko says.

“Well, that’s only slightly concerning,” Sokka says dryly. “Your sister shot lightning at… what do you mean, redirect? That’s a thing?” Sokka knows lightning bending is a thing, albeit a very rare one. But he’d never heard of redirecting a fucking _lightning bolt_.

Zuko sighs. “It’s rare. My uncle created the technique. It was, like, the only interesting move I had when I competed.”

“You competed?” Sokka asks. “Holy shit, when did you stop? Why did you stop? Also, I’m still processing your sister… your sister is Azula! The Azula! I saw her face on a YouTube ad literally six hours ago!”

“I stopped when I was sixteen. Switched to doing the radio show and theatre program at my school.” Zuko is looking at the table, idly spinning a spoon on the table. “It just… it just wasn’t my thing, you know? And my dad was, like, super intense about it. I mean, Azula is a prodigy, and he just couldn’t grasp that I’m just… a little bit above average at it. So he’d be awful and it was exhausting.” He lets out a small huff, looking up at Sokka through his eyelashes. “I almost got disowned when I quit. It wasn’t the first time he nearly kicked me out of the home, but I mean, that time I had my bags packed and was expecting to be shipped off to my uncle’s at any moment.”

Sokka takes a few deep breaths, processing that information. He’d caught on over the past few days that Zuko had an iffy home life, but hearing it from Zuko-- the fact that he nearly got kicked out for merely quitting pro-bending, made his heart hurt.

He gave himself a moment to process this, his brain going a mile a minute, running through the abundance of information he’d just received. Zuko’s sister is literally a celebrity, and Zuko is just… sitting here in this diner… in front of him, like it’s nothing? That has to be weird, right? Having a sister like that. A sister like-- 

Azula. Azula Xia. Of course he’s heard of Azula Xia. Best firebender of the century. Known for her blue fire. She is both an Olympic level bender and a student at University of the Caldera, the most elite school in the world. She is known for her tight friendship with two non-bender Olympians. The knife girl and the acrobat. Azula Xia. There was something else…

“Xia,” Sokka whispers, looking up to see Zuko’s arched eyebrow. “Ozai Xia. Former professional firebender, has his hands in businesses all over the world… Xia, oh spirits,” Sokka groans, dropping his head in his hands. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“A bit,” Zuko says, his voice a bit strained. “I think everyone else in the world knows.”

“I just… I don’t know, didn’t make the connection.” Sokka looks up at him through his fingers. “You’re Ozai Xia’s son.”

“Yep.”

“He’s arguably the most powerful man in the world.”

“Arguably, yes. Sadly. It’s bad news for all of us, really. He’s an ass.”

Sokka sighs, leaning back again. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko’s eyes are appraising him, looking for… something, but Sokka doesn’t know what. “What for?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I guess, I feel like you wanted me to not know, about your family and stuff. You were enjoying the anonymity and all that,” Sokka says.

Zuko huffs out a small laugh. “Sokka, it’s okay. I mean, honestly, the fact that you got to know me before making the connection--well, it really means a lot, okay? So don’t feel bad.”

Sokka hums a bit, searching for any hurt that might be visible on Zuko’s face, but only seeing earnestness behind his statement.

“I don’t think any less of you. Or more, really. For being a Xia. We can’t control our families.”

“I appreciate that,” Zuko says. “Truly, I do.”

“But,” Sokka says, though he makes sure he’s smiling before saying this. “Your dad is an ass. He had his hand in this business that fucked up one of the few forests back home. Katara almost became an environmentalist hippie.”

Zuko chuckles-- a light, twinkling sound. “I considered becoming an environmental hippie just to piss him off. But majoring in film did the job.”

“Good for you!” Sokka says, lifting his hot cocoa mug up in cheers, and laughing as Zuko rolls his eyes but joins him with his own coffee mug. “Here’s to pissing off your asshole father!”

“Cheers!” Zuko responds, taking a sip of his coffee, staring at Sokka over the rim of his mug. His golden eyes, the eyes that Sokka has learned are typical in the upper echelons of Fire Nation society, are practically ablaze. With joy? With comfort?

Sokka doesn’t know, but he wants to see them shine like this every day.

\-----------------------

_The perpetrator for this attack was wealthy. A wealthy lord of the seventeenth century Ba Sing Se-- a fancy home in the Upper Ring, his children went to the finest schools, he had the ear of the Earth King._

_But after what he did-- when he went on a rampage, killing over one hundred innocent women and patrons of the Red Light District, the authorities did something genuinely shocking. They actually apprehended him. I imagine this had to shake the entire system to its core. A rich man, being apprehended for killing mostly working class folks? Unbelievable!_

_And yet, he was tried and found guilty, executed by an earthbending squad. Even in the Fire Nation and Northern Water Tribe, where similar hierarchies are found, there was absolute shock. Were they also at risk for being held accountable for their crimes?_

_There aren’t too many details about what his motive even was. There’s theories, yeah. But the information has been lost through time, whether that was intentional or not. My theory is that he was a tightwad traditionalist who thought these folks were some evil spirit incarnate, but that’s just based on the stuff I had to hear from my grandfather. Who was a piece of shit, I should note._

_I think, with rhetoric like that, it’s easy for people to go on a murder spree. Especially if they already feel morally superior. Which is bullshit, of course. Not an excuse. But it shows the harm in that type of ideology even existing, you know?_

_I think I’m just rambling now. My sister told me I have a tendency to do that. I was just touched that she listens to this podcast._

\-----------------------

It’s four in the morning, and Sokka is still up, sitting on his fire escape and smoking yet another blunt. His date with Zuko had ended two hours ago, and was one of the best first dates in his life. Honestly, can’t go wrong with pancakes, that’s what Sokka always said.

And when Zuko had dropped him off-- ever the gentleman, insisting that he’s not going to come upstairs on the first date-- he had said:.

“I need to go to Costco for something tomorrow. They were out of stock today and said the shipment was coming in tonight and all that. You know,” Zuko had paused, clearing his throat a bit. “If you’d like to come with me. Since you seem to be a Costco enthusiast.”

Sokka had been practically vibrating on his feet, and the offer had gone straight to his heart. “Hell fucking yeah I want to go to Costco. What time?”

“Noon?” Zuko had asked, his voice a bit timid.

“Consider it a date.” And with that Sokka had winked and walked off to the apartment, throwing one last look at Zuko, who was being the dutiful driver and waiting for Sokka to get inside before driving off.

Honestly, the sweetest man.

After two hours of attempting to sleep, Sokka had given up any hope of that and made his way out to his smoke spot. This late--or early?-- in the morning, the sound of the waves reverberated through the entire city, and Sokka could close his eyes and imagine he was sitting right on the beach, his feet in the sand, the water barely touching his toes. The water in the Fire Nation is never cold, unlike back home where the water is ice half the year. At home, touching the water with his bare skin made it feel like needles were stabbing into every pore.

But here, on the equator, the water is warm year round. He could jump in the ocean right now and go for a pleasant swim. It’s tempting and, honestly, his favorite part of the Fire Nation. It’s relaxing-- feeling the ocean surround you. It’s the most powerful force on the planet, and you can just get in it and float, let the waves take you. You’re at your most vulnerable in the ocean, and that vulnerability is something Sokka always craves, especially when he’s high off of his ass.

He’s halfway through his joint when the fire escape jiggles in a familiar way, and he holds the joint out before she even opens her mouth.

“Nice job tonight,” he says as a greeting.

“I think you were the real winner,” Toph replies, taking her puff before passing it back. “Zuko, huh? He’s a sweet guy.”

“You could’ve told me you knew him,” Sokka points out. Toph laughs.

“Do you really think I’d tell you that?”

Sokka grumbles, taking his hit before passing the joint back to hear, and he leans against the brick of his building. “I really like him.”

“Be careful with him,” she responds, her voice grave.

“Yeah, I figured,” Sokka grumbles. “I put together who he is after I realized Azula is his sister. You really spar scary blue fire?”

Toph snorts, passing the joint back over to him. “I’ve known her since before I could walk, Sokka. She’s not scary.” Toph pauses then. Her feet are dangling a bit-- rare, for her, to not have her feet on the ground, but shows the amount of trust she has in Sokka. “His family sucks. He deserves better than his dad.”

Sokka hums in agreement. “Yeah, he does. I feel bad that I figured it out. I think he’d rather have told me when he was ready.”

“Yeah, he would’ve,” Toph says, blunt as always. “But, well, he knows he won’t ever get that opportunity.”

“That sucks,” Sokka says. “A lot. I couldn’t imagine having to live like that.”

She shrugs. “Could be worse. I mean, he gets to be rich because of it.”

“Ah, a fair trade,” Sokka responds drily.

They sit together in silence for a few moments, enjoying the joint and the ocean breeze, before Toph lets out an exasperated sigh.

“...You really don’t know who Zuko is?” she finally asks.

“What? I just told you, I worked it out. His dad is Ozai Xia. He’s on Kitsune News like… every day.”

“Not _that_ ,” Toph says. “But who Zuko is-- you know what, never mind, you’ll figure it out when you figure it out.”

She stands, stretching her arms up, before going to climb back up to her apartment. Sokka stands as well, his eyes wide.

“What do you mean? Is he like, an assassin? Has he done something crazy? You know, I just heard on my podcast--”

“Goodnight!” Toph says. “You’ll figure it out, and I can’t wait for you to, honestly. I’m going to flame the absolute hell out of you.”

And with that, she’s off. Leaving behind her a confused Sokka and a dead joint.

Some things never change.

Sokka shakes his head. He’s too high for this. And this was indica, the strand notorious for making him fall asleep at inopportune times, so shit, maybe he’ll actually be able to pass out. 

Anyways, he has a hot Costco date tomorrow. He needs to get some beauty sleep.

\-----------------------

  
  


_I feel like it’s rare on this show for there to be any actual justice. Do you ever think about how, and excuse my language, fucked up that is? That we have to celebrate justice actually being served?_

_But what even is justice for one hundred lives lost? Or the system in place that leads to that sort of tragedy?_

_Honestly, I took one sociology class and now I get all hypothetical on my podcast._

_Anyways, there’s now a famous Earth Kingdom play about this. I consider myself a theatre snob and have in fact seen this play, and honestly, it’s quite heart wrenching. It’s called ‘The Hero of of the Red-Light District’ if you ever find yourself with the opportunity to see it and the desire to cry your eyes out._

_But then, of course, we’re back to my initial question. Does a play, where the criminal is featured, give justice to the victims? Or does the play actually make us aware of the tragedy, and pay our respects in a unique way? The arts give us a different outlet in expressing our grief. A different way to express tragedy._

_But is it always appropriate to make it art?_

_Shit, maybe I should do an episode that’s just me having some sort of round-table discussion on the sociological aspects of murder._

_Or not. Then y’all would have to know who I am, and isn’t that embarrassing._

_Anyways, that’s it for this week. I’ll see you next time!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> links for today:  
> murder: [1696 spree killing](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsujigiri#1696_spree_killing). there's like no details so i just filled in the blanks
> 
> pancakes: [they look so fluffy omg](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchen/fluffy-japanese-pancakes-3686850)
> 
> japanese costco: [look how fun this is](https://www.buzzfeed.com/michelleno/14-things-you-can-actually-buy-at-costco-japan)
> 
> also, i have decided i can plug my tumblr. pls block "nsfw" tag if u don't wanna see any nsfw content or reblogs on there (:  
> [bisexual-atla](bisexual-atla.tumblr.com)
> 
> as always, thanks for reading! i love reading y'all's comments


	5. hold your loved ones close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all! I finally finished a multi-chap!
> 
> Special thanks to Wheat for beta'ing this entire fic and being the absolute best.

_ In the winter of 1937, on Kyoshi Island, the daughter of the Fire Nation ambassador was walking home from a night of ice skating with her friends. Her father waited up for her-- the sun had already set, and he was nervous for her walk home. _

_ And had every reason to be. _

_ His daughter, Rongxi, would not return home that night. _

_ What follows is a horrific discovery and a mystery that haunts the island to this day. _

_ Welcome back to ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’. Once again, I’m your host, Zuko. This week we’re heading down south to the fantastic Kyoshi Island, a place I’ve only had the honor to visit a couple of times, but that is always such a treat. Before we get started, just want to give a huge shout out to this week’s sponsor, Yangchen Yak’s and Nature reserve, a non-profit organization and garden focussed on preserving the natural beauty near the Western Air Temple-- _

\-----------------------

Sokka is rocking back and forth on his feet, nervously waiting outside of his apartment for Zuko to drive up. He can’t exactly pinpoint  _ why _ he’s nervous-- shit, last night he’d been bold enough to ask Zuko to dinner, what’s a trip to Costco?-- but nevertheless, there’s the tightening of his stomach. He takes some calming breaths, breathing in the late morning air of the ocean, trying to center himself. In and out.

His heartbeat is slowing back down to what might medically be considered normal when Zuko's small, gray sedan turns onto his street and cruises to a stop. Sokka opens the door, quickly jumping in before anyone can pull up behind the car because it's Sokka's worst nightmare to inconvenience anyone ever. The backseat of the car is emptier than it was last night, and there’s an overwhelming--but still pleasant--smell of jasmine present. Something tells Sokka that the scent isn’t coming from the little faded green tree hanging from the rearview mirror.

“Sorry I’m a couple minutes late,” Zuko says. Sokka looks at the clock on the dashboard-- it’s literally 11:58 AM, Zuko is  _ early _ . “My uncle tried to do my hair.”

Sokka lets out a small snort. “Did you let him?”

Zuko quickly shakes his head, pulling back into the flow of traffic and heading in the familiar direction towards the store. “My freshman year, I went on a date with Jin-- I think you met her? She works at the tea shop. Anyways, my uncle successfully bullied me into letting him style it, and I looked like a tall toddler. It was awful.”

Sokka laughs. The face Zuko is making-- with his face scrunched up in disgust, his nose wrinkled and his eyes narrowed-- makes the story even more delightful.

“From the two seconds I talked to Jin, I’d bet she absolutely roasted you,” Sokka says.

Zuko groans. “You have no idea. She still brings it up. And my uncle is, of course, unrepentant.”

“You seem close to your uncle,” Sokka comments.

“Yeah, well, he’s kind of the only good adult in my life. I mean, my mom used to be one. A good adult, that is. But, well,” Zuko pauses, pursing his lips. “She died when I was in middle school. Or, I think she died? She just wasn’t there one day. And we had a funeral and everything, so…” he trails off.

Sokka takes a moment to absorb that information, wanting to make sure he’s fully processed it before responding. He’s been known to occasionally put his foot in his mouth when he doesn’t take a moment to actually think about what to say.

(Like that time Toph tried to talk about her overbearing parents and the horrible effects it had on her confidence as a young teen.

And Sokka. Poor, idiot Sokka, had responded: “That’s real rough, bud.”)

“Thank you for sharing with me,” Sokka says. “I-,” he pauses, taking another breath. “My mom almost died when I was a kid. It was real touch and go for a while. Thankfully, she’s alive. But I have some idea of what that feels like. It’s rough.”

Zuko nods, and they sit for a moment, just the noise of the car speeding along filling the silence.

“She’s the one who encouraged me to explore my interests. Her and my dad never got along, and she always hated the expectations he put on us. So, you know, I just always remind myself that she’d be proud of me. And my uncle is proud of me. And, I don’t know, I think Azula is too? But she has her own thing going on.” Zuko shrugs. “I don’t mean to get too deep on our first date.”

Sokka shakes his head. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m really honored you shared this with me. And anyways,” and now he smirks, turning his head more towards Zuko. “This is technically our second date.”

Zuko chuckles. “You’re right, how could I forget our delicious pancakes last night.”

“Best pancakes on the island,” Sokka says.

“Pretty sure they’re the only pancakes on the island. Or, only sweet pancakes.”

“So I was right,” Sokka retorts. “Best pancakes. What, am I supposed to eat a scallion pancake?”

Zuko gasps, quickly turning his head to stare at Sokka with wide eyes before turning back to the road. “How could you say that? Scallion pancakes are delicious. Truly, a culinary masterpiece.”

“Nope,” Sokka disagrees. “You’re completely wrong. I’ve never had a good one in my life.”

Zuko tuts at him, turning into the crowded Costco parking lot. “You’ve never had my uncle’s, then. I crave these things, Sokka. You don’t understand the passion I feel towards scallion pancakes.”

“I didn’t take you for a foodie,” Sokka says.

“I’m not. It’s literally just this one particular food item.”

Zuko parks the car, somehow managing to secure a spot relatively close to the entrance, and turns to Sokka with an arched eyebrow. “Ready to brave the Sunday afternoon Costco crowd?”

“Absolutely,” Sokka says, cracking his knuckles. “Who do you think would win in a fight over the last dumpling pack-- me, or one of these wealthy moms?”

“The mom, hands down,” Zuko says, getting out of the car. Sokka follows suit. “Have you ever seen a mom in a store? They’re on a mission.”

They maneuver their way into the store, Zuko grabbing one of the oversized carts and flashing his membership card to the worker standing at the door, who doesn’t offer more than a cursory glance.

Sokka eyes this with interest. “Think I could ever get away with using your card to get in here?”

“It’s not even me on the card,” Zuko says, smirking at Sokka. “It’s my uncle’s face. So if I, the man with a scar on half of his face, can pass for an elderly man, I think you could too.”

Sokka thrusts his fist in the air, doing a quick celebratory hop. “Fuck yeah! Costco access, here I come.”

Zuko sighs, pushing the cart through the crowds as they make their way to the food half of the store. “Am I being used for my exclusive grocery store access?”

Sokka places a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Now, now, Zuko. Don’t think of it as being ‘used’. Think of it as ‘winning me over’.”

He lets out a startled laugh, giving Sokka a quick jab with his elbows, before turning down the aisle that’s absolutely packed with rice.

“They were out of  _ rice _ yesterday?” Sokka asks, voice laced with disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“No, no. There’s this one very specific kind my uncle likes that apparently every other restaurant owner on this cursed island also likes. It’s a battle every weekend to get a hold of it.”

“I didn’t even know the tea shop sold food. Other than, I don’t know, pastries.”

Zuko reaches down to grab a pack, hoisting it onto the bottom of the cart. “We have a few food items. Nothing too difficult though. Spirits know I can’t cook.”

He leans back up and smiles at Sokka. “That’s all I needed. So now we can shop for you!”

Sokka blinks a few times, before slowly pointing towards himself. “Me? Like, just for me? I mean, there’s just a few things I really needed…”

“But are there things you want?” Zuko asks, cocking his head to the side, his eyes questioning.

“Well, I mean, of course! But, you know--” he pats his pants pocket where his wallet is located. “College student budget.”

Zuko just gives him a knowing smile. “Remember who my dad is?”

Sokka blinks a few times. “Yeah…”

“Well, in order to avoid my uncle beating the hell out of him and taking over the family dynasty, my dad has to give me a rather large allowance. And there’s nothing I enjoy doing more than spending his money on shit that would annoy him. And buying stuff for a boy at Costco? That would annoy the shit out of him.”

Sokka’s eyes widen, before he reaches forward to grab Zuko by the arms. “You mean to tell me I can force Ozai Xia to buy me absolutely useless shit?”

Zuko gives him a smile. All teeth. “Exactly.”

Sokka claps his hands together. “Let’s fill this cart up, baby.”

Zuko waves his hand in the general direction in front of them. “Lead the way, Sokka. I am but your humble cart-pusher.”

They make their way through the store, Sokka stocking up on sodas and snacks and pre-made meals that should last him the next week-- the cart now full of dumplings, fried squid, norimaki, salted kelp, and whatever other junk he could get his hands on-- before moving over to the fuzzy socks and jacket area, where he fills his cart with more faux-fur lined clothes than anyone even needs, especially on a tropical island. He’s having the time of his life-- he hasn’t been able to go crazy like this in a store since he started university, and let’s be real, shopping really is one of his favorite pastimes. When he was younger, he’d go with his mom to the large market located in the Old Town of Harbor City-- it was almost as old as the city itself, many of the walls still made of the traditional ice. They’d wander through the stalls together, looking at the various trinkets and goods brought from all over the South Pole, from handmade combs to carvings to orca walrus ivory-- representing the various cultures evident in the Southern Water Tribe, and the beauty of all of the different, individual clans coming together. 

Whenever he goes home, he still goes with his mom, meandering the old halls together.

Occasionally, he glances back at Zuko, nervous that he’s pushing the limit of his generosity. But Zuko’s face never changes from the fond, peaceful look-- his eyes soft, his lips just slightly upticked, no wrinkle of annoyance present. 

Sokka can feel his heart soaring. 

They make it to the checkout line, and for the sake of his own anxiety, he doesn’t even look at the end price. As happy as he is to spend Ozai’s money, he knows there’s some residual guilt that is bound to show up. He didn’t grow up poor, but money wasn’t something that was in excess, and he definitely wouldn’t have been allowed to buy this much at once. 

They make their way to the car, loading it up (Sokka doesn’t know how he feels that it’s filled to the brim), and once they’re all in, Zuko reaches over to give Sokka’s arm a small squeeze.

“Good to know you enjoy shopping,” he says.

“I really, really do,” Sokka says. “Do you?”

Zuko hums. “Shopping? Not really. But buying stuff for others? Absolutely. I love giving gifts to others. It used to annoy Mai when we were teenagers. I’d just get her random shit.”

“Mai?” Sokka asks. “Is that the knife-throwing Olympian, or am I now just assuming you know all professional athletes?”

“Nope, that’s her. She’s my childhood best friend,” Zuko says.

Sokka sighs. “Of course she is. Any other famous people you know?”

“Probably?” Zuko asks. He’s playing with his phone, trying to find music to play. Sokka, the nosy shit that he is, is staring at his phone, making judgements on his music taste.

Zuko turns to him with questioning eyes. “Do you have a preference on what we listen to?”

“What type of music do you like to listen to?” Sokka asks. “I don’t want to make you listen to rap if you’re more of a… country music kind of guy.”

Zuko scowls, turning his phone away from Sokka’s prying eyes. “I’ll have you know classic country is a beautiful, deep genre.”

“Mmhm,” Sokka says, voice noncommittal. “Sure, yeah.”

“I’m serious!” Zuko responds, his voice rising. Sokka just snorts, and Zuko’s eyes narrow. “I’m tempted to put on country music just to spite you.”

Sokka snatches the phone from him, eliciting a startled  _ hey! _ from Zuko. “I’m not taking any chances, buddy. Let’s see…” He scrolls through the app, ignoring Zuko’s sigh as he peers over to see what he’s doing. It’s pretty typical music for a twenty-something-- essentially every genre is present, though there’s admittedly more classical music than Sokka would expect-- and he’d just decided to settle on the ‘Daily Mix 5’ playlist when he noticed the podcast photo underneath.

“Oh, right! I forgot you liked murder mysteries. Did you listen to this most recent episode? Of ‘That’s Murder, Buddy’? The Kyoshi Island one? You know, I interned on Kyoshi Island this summer, and I didn’t even know this was a thing. I walked by that building hundreds of…” Sokka trails off, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Zuko is full on facing him, his eyebrow arched and his lips twitching.

“You can’t be serious,” Zuko says.

“What?” Sokka says. His eyes narrow. “Is your family connected to this murder somehow?”

Zuko snorts, before shaking his head slowly. “Sokka, how would you like to come back to my place. I have something I want to show you.”

Sokka cocks an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to murder me, are you?”

“I’d hope not,” Zuko responds. “I just think it’d be easier to show you this instead of explaining it.”

Sokka sighs, leaning into his seat. “Everything is a mystery nowadays.”

Zuko snorts. “Don’t know if this counts as a mystery, bud.”

\-----------------------

_ Her body was found in a ditch near the Avatar Building. Mutilated, barely discernible. She’d been brutalized in ways that would make your stomach twist. Left to rot in the street, not even treated as a human.  _

_ Due to her father’s power, an extensive investigation took place. The autopsy report stated she primarily died of a brain hemorrhage, due to the extensive beatings that took place, in addition to blunt force trauma on her right arm. This led investigators to assume the murderer was someone she knew, rather than just some stranger with a bone to pick. _

_ But who would commit such a heinous crime to an innocent girl? She was only nineteen years old-- still had her whole life in front of her. Why would someone kill her in such a terrible way, and then just dump her body? _

_ There were a few suspects, from scorned former lovers to family friends who’d fallen out with her family, but nothing would stick. Eventually, as some of these cases go, it went cold. To this day, no one knows who killed her. _

_ It’s disturbing to not know why your loved one was murdered or killed. Not knowing… well, it takes away some of the closure the family could hope to gain. _

_ I can only pray to the spirits that they were able to find peace. _

\-----------------------

“You can put your groceries in the walk-in,” Zuko says as they enter the tea shop through the back. He helps Sokka with a few of the bags of cold items. “No one will notice.”

“I have to ask, does your apartment always smell like tea? I just feel like, living above one, the smell has to get into everything.” Sokka hoists the heavier bag into his arms, following behind Zuko and letting the outside door close behind him.

“You have no idea,” Zuko says. “I don’t think I’ll ever escape the smell of jasmine.”

They drop the groceries off, gently tossing them into an unoccupied corner near the front, before going up some stairs right next to the fridge. It’s just one story up before they’re entering a cozy apartment. It’s old, yeah, but the walls are painted a nice red, and there’s rugs scattered around the room. There’s a wall of books to one side-- literal floor to ceiling shelves of books, and a fireplace sits in the middle, with framed pictures cluttering the mantle.

“This is so homey,” Sokka says, peering around the apartment. “There’s this aesthetic I saw on Pinterest once. It was like… clutter chic? Clutter-core? I cannot keep up with all of these home aesthetics.”

Zuko snorts, moving further into the apartment and dropping his coat over the back of the couch. “Would you like some hot cocoa?”

“Yes,” Sokka immediately answers, slowly lowering himself onto the sofa. “Though I thought you said you had something to show me?”

“I’ve already shown you,” Zuko says, a mischievous smile growing on his face as he makes his way to the small kitchen located off of the living room.

Sokka’s eyes widen, and he glances around the room, trying to see what he's missing. There’s the books, fireplace, he can see a small table in the corner, a desk with dual monitors, an old tv shoved onto a shelf…

“What am I supposed to be looking for?” he asks, raising his voice slightly. He can hear Zuko snort, and then he pops his head around the corner to look at him.

“I thought you liked mysteries?” Zuko asks.His head disappears for another second and the sound of a spoon stirring inside of a mug can be heard, the methodical  _ click clack _ filling up the otherwise silent apartment, and then a moment later, Zuko is walking out with two perfectly steamed mugs of cocoa.

“Stupid firebenders,” Sokka mumbles, taking his mug. He continues to glance around, his brows drawing together in frustration. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

Zuko shrugs. “Should I?” He takes a sip of his own drink. Sokka turns his pleading eyes onto him, eliciting a small chuckle. “Fine, fine. Tell me more about that podcast you like. More about the recent episode, I guess.”

Sokka is desperately confused now, and he places his mug down on the coffee table, leveling Zuko with an intense look. “I thought you were giving me a hint.” His lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.

“Who’s saying I’m not?” Zuko counters. He looks around the room. “Think about it.”

Sokka groans in frustration, putting his head in his hands. “Is it about the podcast? That episode in specific?”

“The podcast, not the specific episode,” Zuko supplies. “There’s lots of hints in the episode itself, but most importantly…” Zuko pauses. “Well, I don’t want to make it too easy.”

Sokka whimpers and throws himself dramatically back on the couch. “Okay, okay. So the show… the show… oh.”

_ The fucking show _ .

He slowly sits back up, staring back at the desk with the dual monitors, and notices, for the first time, a microphone set up on the desk. He stares intensely at the microphone for a long moment, before slowly looking back at Zuko.

At. Fucking. Zuko.

“You bastard,” he says, blushing as Zuko breaks out into a fit of laughter. “You absolute bastard! You knew this whole time!”

“To be fair, everyone knew,” Zuko says, trying to contain his giggles. “I just thought it was adorable.”

“I thought Zuko was a common name!” Sokka says, voice rising as he tries to defend himself. 

“It really isn’t,” Zuko says. “My name is some weird family name. I’ve literally never met another Zuko in my life.”

Sokka groans again, grabbing one of the pillows on the sofa and using it to cover his beet red face. “This is the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed!” Zuko says. Sokka hears him place his mug down on the table, before he feels a hand gently pry the pillow from his fingers. “I mean, I try to make my voice less… hmm…”

“Gravelly?” Sokka supplies.

Zuko snaps his fingers. “Yes, that! I try to make it less grave;ly on the radio. I don’t want to sound like a serial smoker or anything.”

“Trust me, Zuko, if you used your actual voice, your listener count would skyrocket. You have a very sexy voice,” Sokka says, but he still shoots a glare at Zuko. “But just because your voice is sexy doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zuko says, though his lips are still fighting a smile.

They stare at each for a few moments-- Sokka pouting and Zuko’s face unbearably happy. Sokka analyzes his face-- the scar over the left side, the dimple on his right cheek, the way his golden eyes look like the sun setting over the ocean. He can feel the intensity behind Zuko’s gaze as he stares at him, and his heart clenches at the sight. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Zuko blinks a few times, though his smile finally grows to its full size. “Hmm, does that mean I’m forgiven, then?”

“Depends on how good of a kisser you are,” Sokka answers, though he leans up, now face to face with Zuko, their noses practically touching. 

“Oh? Well, I guess I’ll have to exceed expectations, then.”

They both lean forward at the same time, their lips meeting in the middle. Zuko’s lips are softer than he might have expected. When he thinks of firebenders, he thinks of intensity. Of passion. It’s what their bending is built on. And physically speaking, this isn’t the most intense kiss he’s ever had. But emotionally speaking? Probably the most intense kiss he’s ever had. Zuko’s lips are soft, and he puts just a little pressure behind his movement, his lips just slightly moving to accommodate Sokka. Sokka reaches up to his hair, gently stroking the thick, dark locks, running his fingers through the long hair, fingernails gently scratching his scalp.

When they break apart, they stay close, leaning their foreheads against one another. Zuko lets out a small hum, a sound of pure contentment, before he reaches out to place a hand on Sokka’s knee.

“So,” he asks. “Did I exceed expectations?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sokka answers. “Though, you’re still a bastard.”

Zuko laughs, squeezing his knee again. “I’ll take it.”

They sit in silence for a moment more, enjoying each other's company, listening to the rise and fall of each other's chest. 

When, suddenly, a thought comes to Sokka.

“Does this mean I get early access to the podcast episodes?”

\-----------------------

_ There’s always conflict in our lives. It’s naive to think we can make it through this world without coming to blows with someone. It’s unfortunate, however, when our own bad decisions harm others. Though it’s not confirmed, I suspect that Rongxi was killed by someone who had a conflict with her father. It’s terribly unfair. It shouldn’t have happened to her. _

_ But the world is very rarely fair. _

_ Which is why, I think, it’s important to grab onto those little parts of life. The small moments we have with our family, our friends, and our loved ones. Getting to spend time with your crush, or see them across the library. Watching your uncle’s favorite TV show that you personally hate, but that you know brings him joy. Video-chatting with your sister who lives on the other side of the country. _

_ Life is rarely fair. Bad things are always going to happen. So grab onto these bright moments with both hands and hold on tight.  _

_ Thank you for listening to this week’s episode. I look forward to next week. I’ll try and take my own advice between now and then. Take advantage of the small joys in my life. Heck, maybe I’ll kiss that cute guy I’ve been crushing on. _

_ Until next time, everyone! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! We made it!
> 
> The murder: [Pamela Werner](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Pamela_Werner#Suspect_arrested_and_released)
> 
> My tumblr: [bisexual-atla](https://bisexual-atla.tumblr.com/)
> 
> AHHH!! We did it, y'all! Can y'all tell I'm happy?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [that's murder, buddy [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713066) by [Rionaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa)




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